The Moroccan Adventure
The last few days have been a terrific experience. (To set the stage, the astetics of our ship berth location are - well - third world: The smells of human waste and fish "by product", loose dogs, feral cats, the huge pile of scrap metal next to us on the dock, the crowds of "salespeople" (dates and carpet purchase, etc.), and the dust. But the ship agent has been excellent in doing what needs to be done - he even gave us the use of his office, and wireless network, a five-minute walk away, from where I am sending this communication.)
We arrived in Agadir on Saturday, December 8th, and explored about the city a bit during the afternoon (early curfew for precautionary purposes, all student groups including at least one male student, and females "modestly" dressed). Then early on Sunday - the bus was shipside by 6:15AM - we left for our adventure, traveling inland in a south easterly direction. There were a number of stops - at village
markets and other points of interest. (Toilets were generally of the PWAV- variety, that is, "pee with a view". More than once I gave quiet thanks for the efficiency of the male disposal equipment!) Our route took us several hundred kilometres to the edge of the Sahara, and within 30 km of the border with Algeria, currently a hostile state from Morocco?s point of view. (The military were not in evidence, but there were a half dozen police check points to go through. Incidentally, Morocco?s immediate neighbour to the south on the coast, Western Sahara, is occupied by Morocco.) On Sunday evening we stayed at a hotel in Zagora, then bussed further east in the morning - very arid territory, excepting close proximity to one "river", which is a trickle this time of year, and some "don't look down" climbs up through foothills and back down to the desert floor. After lunch in some shade (nicely catered ? there is a good bit of tourist excursion activity in this area, although we were the only group in evidence that day), and a visit to a bustling market, we drove a few more miles to the literal "end of the road". There I made the acquaintance of Daisy, "my" camel. The ride in to the camp site took about an hour and a half. Advance publicity notwithstanding, the camels patiently made their way up and over the low dunes and wound through the higher ones.
There were twenty of them, in lines of four (tethered one behind the other), each led by a Moroccan "herder". (Because we were a group of 38, at the halfway point those who had been walking replaced the riders to that point. The same procedure was followed on our return the next morning, although with just slightly less enthusiasm. As one of the teachers, I did not want to displace any students desiring a ride back out; nevertheless, Daisy and I were reunited for most of the journey.) I will not be walking quite as fluidly for a day or so - a few hours of camel riding, climbing the highest sand dune in the area to watch the sun set, out at 3:00 AM to look at the stars in the chill of the desert night, and a 12-hour bus ride back to the ship was noted by various body parts as I rolled out of my bunk this morning!) Land rovers had preceded us and the "safari" company personnel had made the site ready. Four-person tents arranged in a semi-circle opened to a camp fire area and a large dining tent, with a "his and her" tent further away for "wash up". We had some authentic Moroccan music and dancing around the fire. In the dining tent we sat on low stools and ate with our bread what I would call a hearty stew (the proper name
escapes me). Most of us were asleep quite early. During a "comfort break" during the night, I marveled at the canopy of stars (mentioned above) and the silence of the desert. It was a special little interval in this larger adventure, one which seemed particularly moving with Advent in my thoughts.
The next morning we had a breakfast of tea and bread, and "broke camp" at first light, arriving back at the bus, and the road, to tackle the return to Agadir. Today we sail at 4:00 PM - my last sail - with Las Palmas, the Canary Islands, our Saturday destination. Exams await the students Thursday through to Saturday lunch time. I fly home via Madrid, London and Toronto on Monday. I'll see most of you very soon! It has been a blast.
Dr "T"/Maurice/Dad/Papa/Tug
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
From Here to Agadir
From here (Palermo) to Agadir, our longest sail, November 26 - December 8th
On Monday (departure day), Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday there was nothing of consequence to report. The weather was cloudy, the seas high, but seasickness wasn?t an issue. We are all rather used to the Concordia's performances under varied conditions by now. Classes are going well, and we will finish second "term" this sail, except for a review class and the exam on the voyage from Agadir to Las Palmas. On this leg of the trip I will have taught twelve consecutive days, and
15 classes in each of the two courses, the equivalent of five weeks instruction in a regular Acadia term. It is a busy time!
Thursday through to Sunday featured light breezes and very pleasant conditions. There was a lot of sitting out on deck at available times by all. Shorts and tee shirts, sun block and sun hats are our informal uniforms. A highlight on Friday was "swim call". The ship was stopped - it was dead calm - the zodiac was launched with a couple of strong swimmers on board and they stood off a bit, rather like an ambulance and attendants at a track meet. We were able to jump into the water from the bow sprit, a good height, and swim to mid-ships and a rope ladder. It was great fun, the water was the Mediterranean of course, but on the last day of November not summer warm. I had never swum in kilometer deep water before. An added bonus was a giant sea turtle that happened by at the time. Sunday evening and under way again, we were joined by a dozen or so dolphins at the bow. It was just dark, and the phosphoresce from the algae in the water, disturbed by the passage of the dolphins, was like a special effects light show. It was simply beautiful.
On Monday the wind was up - although a bright day. There were a number of whale sightings. We passed through the Strait of Gibraltar in early evening and into the night. A friend's cell phone and a tower in range allowed me to leave a short message with Claudia's answering machine. Tuesday and Wednesday were hot and sunny as well as we followed along the coast of Morocco. While passing Casablanca (and cell tower availability) I left a few words with Claudia's answering machine again, and Barna's as well (as she is celebrating a birthday this week). The Miss Concordia "Pageant" was held on Wednesday evening - nine males dressed, performed, and were interviewed. I played the part of the tough judge. What follows is a sample question from my "package":
"Should an individual whose bust measurement exceeds her IQ by more
than two standard deviations be:
(1) Sterilized
(2) Have her DNA made available for scientific investigation
(3) Accept a management position with the Hooters restaurant chain
(4) All of the above??"
The evening was fun, if way "over the top" by times.
Thursday and Friday (today) were routine days. We are anchored off Agadir tonight and will come into the harbour in the morning. The weather continues to be favourable, although sleeping has been difficult the past several nights. As a result of heavy storms further north of us - I am counting my blessings - there is a long steady sea swell which rocks the Concordia constantly. It will roll you to the
edge of your bunk, then slam you back against the wall. Putting an extra pillow on one side, and two life jackets on the other has cut down my bunk "roll velocity" some what, but we're all taking a bit of a pounding. However, better this than sea sick enabling conditions!
This in-port programme should be fun. Tomorrow is a free day to roam about the city market and the other sights. Sunday through Tuesday we will be camping in the desert, with camels as one of our sources of transportation. I'll let you all know how it goes!
On Monday (departure day), Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday there was nothing of consequence to report. The weather was cloudy, the seas high, but seasickness wasn?t an issue. We are all rather used to the Concordia's performances under varied conditions by now. Classes are going well, and we will finish second "term" this sail, except for a review class and the exam on the voyage from Agadir to Las Palmas. On this leg of the trip I will have taught twelve consecutive days, and
15 classes in each of the two courses, the equivalent of five weeks instruction in a regular Acadia term. It is a busy time!
Thursday through to Sunday featured light breezes and very pleasant conditions. There was a lot of sitting out on deck at available times by all. Shorts and tee shirts, sun block and sun hats are our informal uniforms. A highlight on Friday was "swim call". The ship was stopped - it was dead calm - the zodiac was launched with a couple of strong swimmers on board and they stood off a bit, rather like an ambulance and attendants at a track meet. We were able to jump into the water from the bow sprit, a good height, and swim to mid-ships and a rope ladder. It was great fun, the water was the Mediterranean of course, but on the last day of November not summer warm. I had never swum in kilometer deep water before. An added bonus was a giant sea turtle that happened by at the time. Sunday evening and under way again, we were joined by a dozen or so dolphins at the bow. It was just dark, and the phosphoresce from the algae in the water, disturbed by the passage of the dolphins, was like a special effects light show. It was simply beautiful.
On Monday the wind was up - although a bright day. There were a number of whale sightings. We passed through the Strait of Gibraltar in early evening and into the night. A friend's cell phone and a tower in range allowed me to leave a short message with Claudia's answering machine. Tuesday and Wednesday were hot and sunny as well as we followed along the coast of Morocco. While passing Casablanca (and cell tower availability) I left a few words with Claudia's answering machine again, and Barna's as well (as she is celebrating a birthday this week). The Miss Concordia "Pageant" was held on Wednesday evening - nine males dressed, performed, and were interviewed. I played the part of the tough judge. What follows is a sample question from my "package":
"Should an individual whose bust measurement exceeds her IQ by more
than two standard deviations be:
(1) Sterilized
(2) Have her DNA made available for scientific investigation
(3) Accept a management position with the Hooters restaurant chain
(4) All of the above??"
The evening was fun, if way "over the top" by times.
Thursday and Friday (today) were routine days. We are anchored off Agadir tonight and will come into the harbour in the morning. The weather continues to be favourable, although sleeping has been difficult the past several nights. As a result of heavy storms further north of us - I am counting my blessings - there is a long steady sea swell which rocks the Concordia constantly. It will roll you to the
edge of your bunk, then slam you back against the wall. Putting an extra pillow on one side, and two life jackets on the other has cut down my bunk "roll velocity" some what, but we're all taking a bit of a pounding. However, better this than sea sick enabling conditions!
This in-port programme should be fun. Tomorrow is a free day to roam about the city market and the other sights. Sunday through Tuesday we will be camping in the desert, with camels as one of our sources of transportation. I'll let you all know how it goes!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Palermo, Sicily, November 22-26th
This is another busy port and one that comes with a "be careful" proviso, although I have seen nothing to suggest it is unsafe (unless one is speaking of the traffic - see below!). We are positioned between a US destroyer, well off to our starboard, and the largest car ferry I have ever seen, to our port side. You will appreciate that my Italian is nonexistent, but I think the (self-important) traffic director I was chatting up "said" 650 cars capacity (we were holding up fingers to get the total and the "50" part was a source of prolonged ambiguity), this taking place in a calm moment produced by the stalling out of a triple semi-trailer (a load of pizza boxes likely).
With no hesitation I put forward the Italian drivers as the worst I have seen in the ten countries visited to date (and it is hard to imagine that Morocco, our last -new - country to come, can outperform these maniacs). Some examples from the last two days (1) A city bus ran a red light, pure and simple. I know, because the "little green man" symbol for the pedestrian crosswalk had already been presented in "my" direction. The bus driver just lay on the horn (that was for me), and the gas (that was for a cluster of others readying themselves for the crossing), and sailed on through. (2) One has to contend with motor bikes and motorized scooters that take to the sidewalks when presented with what they perceive to be impassable street conditions (any pedestrian congestion encountered is just slalomed through).(3) In what must be a "where do I start" job from hell, I saw a traffic warden ticketing several cars triple parked out side of a betting shop. The warden was wearing a beaked cap that was right out of central casting, a sort of traffic hazard in and of itself! To end this theme on a positive note, I have seen a great number of "smart" cars. They certainly are "parkable"! I have observed them nose to nose, back to nose, perpendicular to the curb, perpendicular to each other, double-parked with each other. Come to think of it, if I were to see one on top of each other (the missionary position as it were) I'd have "a complete set".
My "watch group" and I had an overnight to a seaside resort town, Cefalu, an hour?s train ride from here. It is the off season, of course, so we were able to negotiate two small apartments near the beach for 25 euros a "head". The units each had a double bed and bunk beds, plus a small kitchen, and a continental breakfast was included. There were seven of us - four guys counting me - so it all worked out (I got the top bunk). We had a good time exploring the town, walking the beach, eating out together. They are a good bunch of kids: four Canadians (two from Calgary, two from Ontario), an American from outside of Boston, and a Bahamian.
Today we (eighteen of us) took a city bus to another little resort town twenty minutes away, nestled in the coastal hills. As part of the in-port program (i.e. pre-paid), bikes were rented and we went on a 30 kilometre ride up, up, up and down, down, down the other side, returning to our starting point. We had a support vehicle (for backpacks, water, etc) and two riders (front and back). The bikes were excellent; all that was missing were helmets. There were no mishaps and it was great fun! The route was right along the coast. The elevation was about a double Blomidon lookoff, and the gradient was much like the Cabot Trail, with lots of hairpins and -switchbacks, and my are some of those kids going to be stiff and sore tomorrow! (Of
course it wasn't a race, but several bikes broke away from the main group near the summit, in a dash for the top. I was a witness to this sub-plot.)
Palermo has been a difficult port to get online, and today - Sunday - little is open. I will send this tomorrow morning, but not "at the crack of dawn", because things don't get going that early here in Sicily I have found. We sail tomorrow afternoon (November 26th) for Agadir, Morocco, a twelve-day voyage, my longest. Then after three days there, it is a two-day "jaunt" to Las Palmas, Canary Islands,
from where I fly home in three weeks!
With no hesitation I put forward the Italian drivers as the worst I have seen in the ten countries visited to date (and it is hard to imagine that Morocco, our last -new - country to come, can outperform these maniacs). Some examples from the last two days (1) A city bus ran a red light, pure and simple. I know, because the "little green man" symbol for the pedestrian crosswalk had already been presented in "my" direction. The bus driver just lay on the horn (that was for me), and the gas (that was for a cluster of others readying themselves for the crossing), and sailed on through. (2) One has to contend with motor bikes and motorized scooters that take to the sidewalks when presented with what they perceive to be impassable street conditions (any pedestrian congestion encountered is just slalomed through).(3) In what must be a "where do I start" job from hell, I saw a traffic warden ticketing several cars triple parked out side of a betting shop. The warden was wearing a beaked cap that was right out of central casting, a sort of traffic hazard in and of itself! To end this theme on a positive note, I have seen a great number of "smart" cars. They certainly are "parkable"! I have observed them nose to nose, back to nose, perpendicular to the curb, perpendicular to each other, double-parked with each other. Come to think of it, if I were to see one on top of each other (the missionary position as it were) I'd have "a complete set".
My "watch group" and I had an overnight to a seaside resort town, Cefalu, an hour?s train ride from here. It is the off season, of course, so we were able to negotiate two small apartments near the beach for 25 euros a "head". The units each had a double bed and bunk beds, plus a small kitchen, and a continental breakfast was included. There were seven of us - four guys counting me - so it all worked out (I got the top bunk). We had a good time exploring the town, walking the beach, eating out together. They are a good bunch of kids: four Canadians (two from Calgary, two from Ontario), an American from outside of Boston, and a Bahamian.
Today we (eighteen of us) took a city bus to another little resort town twenty minutes away, nestled in the coastal hills. As part of the in-port program (i.e. pre-paid), bikes were rented and we went on a 30 kilometre ride up, up, up and down, down, down the other side, returning to our starting point. We had a support vehicle (for backpacks, water, etc) and two riders (front and back). The bikes were excellent; all that was missing were helmets. There were no mishaps and it was great fun! The route was right along the coast. The elevation was about a double Blomidon lookoff, and the gradient was much like the Cabot Trail, with lots of hairpins and -switchbacks, and my are some of those kids going to be stiff and sore tomorrow! (Of
course it wasn't a race, but several bikes broke away from the main group near the summit, in a dash for the top. I was a witness to this sub-plot.)
Palermo has been a difficult port to get online, and today - Sunday - little is open. I will send this tomorrow morning, but not "at the crack of dawn", because things don't get going that early here in Sicily I have found. We sail tomorrow afternoon (November 26th) for Agadir, Morocco, a twelve-day voyage, my longest. Then after three days there, it is a two-day "jaunt" to Las Palmas, Canary Islands,
from where I fly home in three weeks!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Nov 16-22
Odds and Ends
Of course many travelers have much more experience than me, but for those who share my 'foreign' language limitations, I am wondering if you have experienced what I will call a 'don't speak the language fatigue'. Cartagena is our eleventh port, and Spanish follows French, German, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, and Russian as 'local tongues' (besides English dialects, in London and Dublin). We arrive in a port, and perhaps have a street map provided by the port authority, and some recalled 'this and thats' from members of the crew or teaching staff from previous visits, but no master plan, and no 'designated facilitator'. So we, as individuals, strike out to find internet sites, bus schedules, bus and train stations, supermarkets, major
tourist spots, etc, and cope as best we can with a smile, hand gestures, and good intentions. It is not without its stressful moments.
On a related theme, I enjoy reading newspapers. While I generally don't buy the ones with 'today's sunshine girl', or UFO abduction stories - I just look at the pictures - it is limiting, to have no English language papers, magazines, or books on offer. Sure, I visit the globeandmail.com, but it is not the same thing. (Now it is true, with this port being on the Mediterranean, there are a few British papers popping up on the stands for the tourist trade.)
The Cartagenan public works department was out in full force this morning. One crew were affixing the Christmas angels, shepherds and so on to the street light poles, while another group was cutting the grass and tending the flower beds in the boulevard across from the marina.
The Spanish are much like Canadians. People of all ages were lining up to pay the 'head tax on the stupid' - that is, to buy lottery tickets, of all shapes and sizes. That pretty accurately describes the sales force as well - I saw a midget doing a brisk business on the high street aided by his sales pitch exhortations rendered in a whiney auctioneer type stream of, well, Spanish. And there was a heavy weight husband and wife team - I'd say 250 pounds each - set up on a competing street corner. I didn't actually see a marriage license, but there is something about the body language of some couples that tells you they are hitched.
Cartagena to Palermo, November 16-22
Fair weather and little wind has characterized our first day or two out. As I write this note, Alger, Algeria is over the horizon on starboard, Menorca on port, with Sardinia straight ahead and 100 miles distant. Adam, the first mate, gives us briefings at Colours each morning on our speed, wind conditions and other pertinent facts. This morning he offered the reassurance that there have been only eight cases of documented piracy in these waters over the past ten years! Hum.
This evening (Sunday) we had a thanksgiving dinner. It had been scheduled to be exactly half-way between the Canadian and American dates, but that would have put it in the middle of our stomach flu period, so tonight was the night. We teachers set table, served, and did all the clean up. Jan cooked the dinner and it was excellent, including a pineapple pieces fondue (in lieu of pumpkin pie.) I'd finish the day with a shower, but we are under sail now on a port tack and the way we are heeled over the shower water would go where it mustn't. It is a tough tack to shave on as well, but convenient for sleeping as it holds me in my bunk. The wind is steadily increasing so I expect a fairly rough ride by morning!
Morning (November 19th) has arrived, and we have every square inch of sail the Concordia possesses pressed into duty. The wind is moderate and is forecast to 'back' to south-east as the morning progresses. This is an inconvenient wind direction for our present destination, so we will be making excellent speed but having to 'zigzag' to get there. I have been meeting with my watch group (I am their 'watch dog', remember) to make plans for a Palermo outing. A story in the latest Time magazine mentions Palermo prominently as a central city in the mafia hierarchy. Perhaps we could take a tour of some of their reputed businesses -protection, money laundering, drugs, prostitution, etc.
During the night I felt a change in heading, and the ship went into what I have been known to call 'bracelet day' mode - that is, carnival ride after carnival ride, all for the same price! This morning is sunny, with high seas. The wind is into our teeth so we are motoring. All the sails are down. I don?t know the wind speed but it is such that it is blowing the tops off the waves. I wore my 'foulies' to Colours as spray is coming across the deck. The wind is forecast to pick up throughout the day. Sardinia is a smudge on the port-side horizon. My tummy is just fine but I expect to see some 'green' faces in my classes today!
We will arrive in Palermo in a couple of hours (morning of November 22nd). Thankfully the seas have abated from their grand performance stature of the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my least comfortable days of the entire journey. At one point waves were breaking on the deck and proceeding right over the mess, so that my early morning class there required the 'windows' to be tightly closed to protect books and papers on the tables. My usually reliable stomach had had enough of this churning by mid-morning and did the honourable thing. A nap through lunch (food was not a realistic option) stabilized things and by supper time bread and soup were welcome.
We watched The Godfather in the mess to get in the mood.
Of course many travelers have much more experience than me, but for those who share my 'foreign' language limitations, I am wondering if you have experienced what I will call a 'don't speak the language fatigue'. Cartagena is our eleventh port, and Spanish follows French, German, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, and Russian as 'local tongues' (besides English dialects, in London and Dublin). We arrive in a port, and perhaps have a street map provided by the port authority, and some recalled 'this and thats' from members of the crew or teaching staff from previous visits, but no master plan, and no 'designated facilitator'. So we, as individuals, strike out to find internet sites, bus schedules, bus and train stations, supermarkets, major
tourist spots, etc, and cope as best we can with a smile, hand gestures, and good intentions. It is not without its stressful moments.
On a related theme, I enjoy reading newspapers. While I generally don't buy the ones with 'today's sunshine girl', or UFO abduction stories - I just look at the pictures - it is limiting, to have no English language papers, magazines, or books on offer. Sure, I visit the globeandmail.com, but it is not the same thing. (Now it is true, with this port being on the Mediterranean, there are a few British papers popping up on the stands for the tourist trade.)
The Cartagenan public works department was out in full force this morning. One crew were affixing the Christmas angels, shepherds and so on to the street light poles, while another group was cutting the grass and tending the flower beds in the boulevard across from the marina.
The Spanish are much like Canadians. People of all ages were lining up to pay the 'head tax on the stupid' - that is, to buy lottery tickets, of all shapes and sizes. That pretty accurately describes the sales force as well - I saw a midget doing a brisk business on the high street aided by his sales pitch exhortations rendered in a whiney auctioneer type stream of, well, Spanish. And there was a heavy weight husband and wife team - I'd say 250 pounds each - set up on a competing street corner. I didn't actually see a marriage license, but there is something about the body language of some couples that tells you they are hitched.
Cartagena to Palermo, November 16-22
Fair weather and little wind has characterized our first day or two out. As I write this note, Alger, Algeria is over the horizon on starboard, Menorca on port, with Sardinia straight ahead and 100 miles distant. Adam, the first mate, gives us briefings at Colours each morning on our speed, wind conditions and other pertinent facts. This morning he offered the reassurance that there have been only eight cases of documented piracy in these waters over the past ten years! Hum.
This evening (Sunday) we had a thanksgiving dinner. It had been scheduled to be exactly half-way between the Canadian and American dates, but that would have put it in the middle of our stomach flu period, so tonight was the night. We teachers set table, served, and did all the clean up. Jan cooked the dinner and it was excellent, including a pineapple pieces fondue (in lieu of pumpkin pie.) I'd finish the day with a shower, but we are under sail now on a port tack and the way we are heeled over the shower water would go where it mustn't. It is a tough tack to shave on as well, but convenient for sleeping as it holds me in my bunk. The wind is steadily increasing so I expect a fairly rough ride by morning!
Morning (November 19th) has arrived, and we have every square inch of sail the Concordia possesses pressed into duty. The wind is moderate and is forecast to 'back' to south-east as the morning progresses. This is an inconvenient wind direction for our present destination, so we will be making excellent speed but having to 'zigzag' to get there. I have been meeting with my watch group (I am their 'watch dog', remember) to make plans for a Palermo outing. A story in the latest Time magazine mentions Palermo prominently as a central city in the mafia hierarchy. Perhaps we could take a tour of some of their reputed businesses -protection, money laundering, drugs, prostitution, etc.
During the night I felt a change in heading, and the ship went into what I have been known to call 'bracelet day' mode - that is, carnival ride after carnival ride, all for the same price! This morning is sunny, with high seas. The wind is into our teeth so we are motoring. All the sails are down. I don?t know the wind speed but it is such that it is blowing the tops off the waves. I wore my 'foulies' to Colours as spray is coming across the deck. The wind is forecast to pick up throughout the day. Sardinia is a smudge on the port-side horizon. My tummy is just fine but I expect to see some 'green' faces in my classes today!
We will arrive in Palermo in a couple of hours (morning of November 22nd). Thankfully the seas have abated from their grand performance stature of the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my least comfortable days of the entire journey. At one point waves were breaking on the deck and proceeding right over the mess, so that my early morning class there required the 'windows' to be tightly closed to protect books and papers on the tables. My usually reliable stomach had had enough of this churning by mid-morning and did the honourable thing. A nap through lunch (food was not a realistic option) stabilized things and by supper time bread and soup were welcome.
We watched The Godfather in the mess to get in the mood.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Cartagena, November 12th - November 16th
The whole time in this port we experienced cool evenings and early mornings and warm, sunny, cloud free days. It was a suggested parent visitation port, so the ship had a much diminished population as the parents who came stayed in hotels (or went touring), often taking one or two extra students. I will hear plenty of these adventures over the coming days but I do know of groups who went off to Lisbon or Barcelona.
The city itself is undergoing urban renewal - lots of building, renovation, much remaining to be done. Its time of greatest splendor was probably the period under Roman rule. It has seen many masters over the ages and boasts ruins spanning two thousand years. It has the friendliness of la Coruna, but lacks the charm. Our surroundings in the harbour are a mixed lot. We are adjacent to a large marina (with some impressive boats), with the small fishing fleet on our other side. The container ship berths are across the harbour, and sequestered in a large cove around the headland is an impressive sampling of the Spanish navy (including a couple of subs).
An interesting three-person delegation from a volunteer organization called Whale Force made a presentation to us on the ship early in our stay. Based in Cochrane, Alberta (of all places), their interest is in logging the sightings and locations of whales world wide. A sailing ship like the Concordia would be a valuable ally as we have the educational interest, roam the world's seas and travel at a speed
which allows for casual observation of our fellow 'travelers'. We agreed to participate in the data collection.
After a short bus ride to a coastal community called Los Belones we hiked some coastal hills, bringing our selves to a beach which stretched for miles. Some of the students and teachers got 'fully immersed' for a brief period of time. I waded; the water temperature was somewhere between the South Shore in September, and PEI in August.
The highlight of the day to me was a bushwhacking adventure to the highest peak in southern Spain. Heading off from the beach inland, we (there were three in our group) scrambled and climbed to a rugged promontory with a spectacular 360 view. The return trip took a couple of hours, and I have some aches and stiffness this morning, plus scratches from the rosemary bushes, but it was a great adventure. (I
have my climbing urge now satisfied ? a couple of days ago I climbed the main mast up to the flag at the very top. It had to be done, and it is a fair sight more easily accomplished while in port, rather than arcing through 20-40 degrees while at sea!)
Today we will sail on the afternoon tide. Palermo, Sicily is our next port of call. I have my food supplies purchased from the local market to sustain this six-day voyage: Clementines, carrots, boxed juices, crackers, peanut butter and chocolate!
The city itself is undergoing urban renewal - lots of building, renovation, much remaining to be done. Its time of greatest splendor was probably the period under Roman rule. It has seen many masters over the ages and boasts ruins spanning two thousand years. It has the friendliness of la Coruna, but lacks the charm. Our surroundings in the harbour are a mixed lot. We are adjacent to a large marina (with some impressive boats), with the small fishing fleet on our other side. The container ship berths are across the harbour, and sequestered in a large cove around the headland is an impressive sampling of the Spanish navy (including a couple of subs).
An interesting three-person delegation from a volunteer organization called Whale Force made a presentation to us on the ship early in our stay. Based in Cochrane, Alberta (of all places), their interest is in logging the sightings and locations of whales world wide. A sailing ship like the Concordia would be a valuable ally as we have the educational interest, roam the world's seas and travel at a speed
which allows for casual observation of our fellow 'travelers'. We agreed to participate in the data collection.
After a short bus ride to a coastal community called Los Belones we hiked some coastal hills, bringing our selves to a beach which stretched for miles. Some of the students and teachers got 'fully immersed' for a brief period of time. I waded; the water temperature was somewhere between the South Shore in September, and PEI in August.
The highlight of the day to me was a bushwhacking adventure to the highest peak in southern Spain. Heading off from the beach inland, we (there were three in our group) scrambled and climbed to a rugged promontory with a spectacular 360 view. The return trip took a couple of hours, and I have some aches and stiffness this morning, plus scratches from the rosemary bushes, but it was a great adventure. (I
have my climbing urge now satisfied ? a couple of days ago I climbed the main mast up to the flag at the very top. It had to be done, and it is a fair sight more easily accomplished while in port, rather than arcing through 20-40 degrees while at sea!)
Today we will sail on the afternoon tide. Palermo, Sicily is our next port of call. I have my food supplies purchased from the local market to sustain this six-day voyage: Clementines, carrots, boxed juices, crackers, peanut butter and chocolate!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Nov. 2-11th
A Coruna, November 2nd-6th
The time in this port was most enjoyable; Claudia was visiting for two days and after her departure the students and staff had an overnight visit to Santiago de Compostela, an hour's train journey away. This town and its cathedral serve as the western terminus of a well known and popular pilgrim trail. The weather was terrific, low 20s in the afternoon and cool overnight. I did lots of walking, and casual exploring, communicating as best I could with my ten words of Spanish!
A Coruna to Cartagena, November 6th-12th
The sun shone as we left a Coruna and, with a favourable wind from the north-east, we put up lots of sail for our 'scamper' down the Spain-Portugal coast. And we will be buying some new glassware for the galley soon as most all that was on table was smashed with the rolling of the ship during supper. It is all I can do to retain my purchase at my desk in front of my laptop as I write this. We are going to test
the limits of our stomachs tonight with this motion! (Three students were suffering from a bout of food poisoning acquired in town last evening when our sail began - how green can you get with this combination.)
Today (November 7th) the winds have lightened, to the point where we have no sail up at the moment. (We are now wondering if the food poisoning diagnosis was in error. Several more individuals, including the medical officer and the cook, have the symptoms.) We are out of sight of land, along the coast of Portugal. It will take us several days yet to reach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
Another sun-filled day is our lot (November 8th). Between classes I have been out on deck as much as possible. We passed the mouth of the river leading to Lisbon in the forenoon. The coast is just a smudge on the port-side horizon. We are making 9 knots, motor only, as there is little wind. A Portuguese high speed patrol boat buzzed around us around lunch time. They just took a look, waved, and were off again. There is very little shipping traffic in evidence at the moment. A few
fishing boats can be seen between us and the coast. I expect that the traffic will pick up as we approach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
I am finding it necessary, as the journey progresses, to stock up on certain food items while in port. For instance, before leaving a Coruna, I bought some figs, dried apricots, oranges, cherry tomatoes, peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit and almonds. Our meals are not devoid of fruit (taste, perhaps) or protein, but supplementing makes for increased variety and is the only salvation in the case of some meal offerings. As I joked with Claudia during our recent time together, I wish never to see couscous again, and no stir fries or white rice until 2010 or so. Also, I favour eliminating salt as an ingredient in anything served at table once returned safely home.
The fair weather, light wind conditions continue (November 9th). We are out of sight of land at the moment. It is estimated we will reach Gibraltar around 11 PM. I was hoping for a daylight passage into the Mediterranean. We'll be able to see the lights of course.
Two developments over night of consequence: the wind has freshened and is blowing a stiff breeze into our teeth, and three more students have gone down with the intestinal virus. So far so good for me. So I emerge from class, summoned by the noon time galley bell, in heavy seas, to be welcomed by pots of grey liquid with diced hotdogs bobbing on the surface, and bread and water. My grandmother taught me to say nothing if I cannot find something constructive to say. Here follows several minutes of studied silence dedicated to my suppressed recollections of lunch on the 10th of November!
Today is Remembrance Day and we suspended classes to allow for a short program at 11:00 AM. "On Flanders Field" was read and we had a minute's silence.
We are on schedule to arrive in Cartagena tomorrow morning. It will be a relief to have a few days of shore wanderings, and a break from seven straight days of teaching. The weather is pleasant - a lot of the students are sunning themselves up on the mizzen deck. The dolphins are sporting about and a whale has sounded twice in the vicinity of the ship. We can see the coast of Spain through the coastal haze. The ocean surface has hardly a ripple at the moment (4:00 PM, November 11th). My 5:00 PM Macro class was punctuated by a "man overboard" drill. One can appreciate the importance of such simulations, although the students hardly need more distractions!
This is a port to which parents have been officially invited and about a third of the students on board will have a family member or two. The intestinal woes experienced by some have now receded. No new cases have developed in the past 24 hours.
The time in this port was most enjoyable; Claudia was visiting for two days and after her departure the students and staff had an overnight visit to Santiago de Compostela, an hour's train journey away. This town and its cathedral serve as the western terminus of a well known and popular pilgrim trail. The weather was terrific, low 20s in the afternoon and cool overnight. I did lots of walking, and casual exploring, communicating as best I could with my ten words of Spanish!
A Coruna to Cartagena, November 6th-12th
The sun shone as we left a Coruna and, with a favourable wind from the north-east, we put up lots of sail for our 'scamper' down the Spain-Portugal coast. And we will be buying some new glassware for the galley soon as most all that was on table was smashed with the rolling of the ship during supper. It is all I can do to retain my purchase at my desk in front of my laptop as I write this. We are going to test
the limits of our stomachs tonight with this motion! (Three students were suffering from a bout of food poisoning acquired in town last evening when our sail began - how green can you get with this combination.)
Today (November 7th) the winds have lightened, to the point where we have no sail up at the moment. (We are now wondering if the food poisoning diagnosis was in error. Several more individuals, including the medical officer and the cook, have the symptoms.) We are out of sight of land, along the coast of Portugal. It will take us several days yet to reach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
Another sun-filled day is our lot (November 8th). Between classes I have been out on deck as much as possible. We passed the mouth of the river leading to Lisbon in the forenoon. The coast is just a smudge on the port-side horizon. We are making 9 knots, motor only, as there is little wind. A Portuguese high speed patrol boat buzzed around us around lunch time. They just took a look, waved, and were off again. There is very little shipping traffic in evidence at the moment. A few
fishing boats can be seen between us and the coast. I expect that the traffic will pick up as we approach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
I am finding it necessary, as the journey progresses, to stock up on certain food items while in port. For instance, before leaving a Coruna, I bought some figs, dried apricots, oranges, cherry tomatoes, peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit and almonds. Our meals are not devoid of fruit (taste, perhaps) or protein, but supplementing makes for increased variety and is the only salvation in the case of some meal offerings. As I joked with Claudia during our recent time together, I wish never to see couscous again, and no stir fries or white rice until 2010 or so. Also, I favour eliminating salt as an ingredient in anything served at table once returned safely home.
The fair weather, light wind conditions continue (November 9th). We are out of sight of land at the moment. It is estimated we will reach Gibraltar around 11 PM. I was hoping for a daylight passage into the Mediterranean. We'll be able to see the lights of course.
Two developments over night of consequence: the wind has freshened and is blowing a stiff breeze into our teeth, and three more students have gone down with the intestinal virus. So far so good for me. So I emerge from class, summoned by the noon time galley bell, in heavy seas, to be welcomed by pots of grey liquid with diced hotdogs bobbing on the surface, and bread and water. My grandmother taught me to say nothing if I cannot find something constructive to say. Here follows several minutes of studied silence dedicated to my suppressed recollections of lunch on the 10th of November!
Today is Remembrance Day and we suspended classes to allow for a short program at 11:00 AM. "On Flanders Field" was read and we had a minute's silence.
We are on schedule to arrive in Cartagena tomorrow morning. It will be a relief to have a few days of shore wanderings, and a break from seven straight days of teaching. The weather is pleasant - a lot of the students are sunning themselves up on the mizzen deck. The dolphins are sporting about and a whale has sounded twice in the vicinity of the ship. We can see the coast of Spain through the coastal haze. The ocean surface has hardly a ripple at the moment (4:00 PM, November 11th). My 5:00 PM Macro class was punctuated by a "man overboard" drill. One can appreciate the importance of such simulations, although the students hardly need more distractions!
This is a port to which parents have been officially invited and about a third of the students on board will have a family member or two. The intestinal woes experienced by some have now receded. No new cases have developed in the past 24 hours.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Dublin & La Coruna
Dublin – 2007 'first impressions', October 26-29th
Allowing that the harbour area of any city will likely be less attractive than the city proper (although Copenhagen and Stockholm are both beautiful from the water up), Dublin is very much a mixed bag. If one were to use 'number of high-rise construction cranes' as a proxy for economic robustness, the city is booming. Trinity College, a ten-minute walk from our berth, has its beautiful grounds looking grand. The streets are dirtier than London but better than St Petersburg. A lot of mostly passive 'panhandling' is going on. (An immigrant mother with her infant child, an Irishman with two black eyes, a couple of errant teeth and a sailor's tongue, and a couple of bedraggled teens and a dog, were among those in evidence on the 'High Street'. I have yet to figure out the best manner in which to deal with this 'have-have not' conundrum in cases where I am just passing through – Spring Garden Road, Halifax versus 'downtown' Wolfville. For the record, in this specific instance, I gave the mother a little money, the young people and dog some food, and the other chap a nod; he was the least impressed, and the most expressive. I had a brochure outlining upcoming lectures at the university which I chose not to offer.)The people have what might be described as character faces; many look as though everyday life is a struggle. The prices are similar to London: expensive – a cup of coffee and a 'little something' 5-7 euros. Tesco, a British grocery chain (think Atlantic Superstore), is here, selling Tim Horton donuts ( 1.49 euros for a chocolate glazed: about $2.10 Canadian) as one of its items! The price of a litre of unleaded regular is 1.38 euros, $1.96 Canadian.
As part of our in-port activities an excursion was organized to Causey farm, an hour plus by bus from Dublin. Now I wouldn't have thought of such an activity myself, but we all had a great time. Activities included learning a Ceili dance, watching a sheepdog demonstration, milking a cow, taking part in an Irish drum class, learning the basic idea of the Irish national game hurling, a tractor and wagon trip to a peat bog and a forest, and making (and later eating) brown bread. The people at the farm were also getting ready for Halloween, so we were treated to their haunted house experience, and we brought two pumpkins back to the ship which were made into jack-o-lanterns for the 31 st.
I did a lot of walking (as per usual) about the city. On Sunday several of us went to Christ Church Cathedral. On a tour of Trinity College library I viewed the Book of Kells, a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the four gospels, probably produced early in the 9 th century by the monks of Iona.
Miscellaneous: One exciting aspect of coming to each port is the opportunity to use the internet to communicate with family and friends and catch up on some of the Canadian news stories. No two ports are the same with regard to internet access. In Dublin, for instance, we could pick up a wireless network signal from the ship at certain times of the day. By filling out a form at the city library I was issued a library card which allowed free internet access as one of the services. Franchises like McDonalds and Subway have their own wireless networks for customers who have brought their laptops along (a number of local coffee shops have wireless as well). And there are the 'Internet/International Calls' type places which provide the computer access for an hourly fee.
Dublin – La Coruna, October 29 – November 3.
This journey was relatively uneventful. The winds were generally favourable and we made good time. At some points we were truly in the Atlantic, with water depths in the 4,000 metre range!
Halloween was celebrated on the 31st, including costumes and trick or treating. I have now managed to get all the face paints removed – it took a while! (The students are not to have food items stored in their cabins which would attract bugs and mould as starters. Once in a while there are cabin inspections to check on their 'state of affairs'. An inspection the evening we left Dublin yielded vast quantities of contraband, including lots of Halloween treat type goodies. These items were confiscated then 'returned' as treats a couple of evenings later!)
Allowing that the harbour area of any city will likely be less attractive than the city proper (although Copenhagen and Stockholm are both beautiful from the water up), Dublin is very much a mixed bag. If one were to use 'number of high-rise construction cranes' as a proxy for economic robustness, the city is booming. Trinity College, a ten-minute walk from our berth, has its beautiful grounds looking grand. The streets are dirtier than London but better than St Petersburg. A lot of mostly passive 'panhandling' is going on. (An immigrant mother with her infant child, an Irishman with two black eyes, a couple of errant teeth and a sailor's tongue, and a couple of bedraggled teens and a dog, were among those in evidence on the 'High Street'. I have yet to figure out the best manner in which to deal with this 'have-have not' conundrum in cases where I am just passing through – Spring Garden Road, Halifax versus 'downtown' Wolfville. For the record, in this specific instance, I gave the mother a little money, the young people and dog some food, and the other chap a nod; he was the least impressed, and the most expressive. I had a brochure outlining upcoming lectures at the university which I chose not to offer.)The people have what might be described as character faces; many look as though everyday life is a struggle. The prices are similar to London: expensive – a cup of coffee and a 'little something' 5-7 euros. Tesco, a British grocery chain (think Atlantic Superstore), is here, selling Tim Horton donuts ( 1.49 euros for a chocolate glazed: about $2.10 Canadian) as one of its items! The price of a litre of unleaded regular is 1.38 euros, $1.96 Canadian.
As part of our in-port activities an excursion was organized to Causey farm, an hour plus by bus from Dublin. Now I wouldn't have thought of such an activity myself, but we all had a great time. Activities included learning a Ceili dance, watching a sheepdog demonstration, milking a cow, taking part in an Irish drum class, learning the basic idea of the Irish national game hurling, a tractor and wagon trip to a peat bog and a forest, and making (and later eating) brown bread. The people at the farm were also getting ready for Halloween, so we were treated to their haunted house experience, and we brought two pumpkins back to the ship which were made into jack-o-lanterns for the 31 st.
I did a lot of walking (as per usual) about the city. On Sunday several of us went to Christ Church Cathedral. On a tour of Trinity College library I viewed the Book of Kells, a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the four gospels, probably produced early in the 9 th century by the monks of Iona.
Miscellaneous: One exciting aspect of coming to each port is the opportunity to use the internet to communicate with family and friends and catch up on some of the Canadian news stories. No two ports are the same with regard to internet access. In Dublin, for instance, we could pick up a wireless network signal from the ship at certain times of the day. By filling out a form at the city library I was issued a library card which allowed free internet access as one of the services. Franchises like McDonalds and Subway have their own wireless networks for customers who have brought their laptops along (a number of local coffee shops have wireless as well). And there are the 'Internet/International Calls' type places which provide the computer access for an hourly fee.
Dublin – La Coruna, October 29 – November 3.
This journey was relatively uneventful. The winds were generally favourable and we made good time. At some points we were truly in the Atlantic, with water depths in the 4,000 metre range!
Halloween was celebrated on the 31st, including costumes and trick or treating. I have now managed to get all the face paints removed – it took a while! (The students are not to have food items stored in their cabins which would attract bugs and mould as starters. Once in a while there are cabin inspections to check on their 'state of affairs'. An inspection the evening we left Dublin yielded vast quantities of contraband, including lots of Halloween treat type goodies. These items were confiscated then 'returned' as treats a couple of evenings later!)
Friday, October 26, 2007
Brest & Dublin, Oct 22-26th
Brest, October 22-23rd
The weather has held – sunny days (cool in the wind), clear cold nights.
Final exams will be held on our voyage to Dublin in my two first-term courses:
Busi 2713, Introduction to Business and Econ 1013, Microeconomics. Our second term commences upon our departure from Dublin for La Coruna, Spain next Monday. The two new courses will be Macroeconomics and Environmental Economics. I am having a special 'last class' today for review. Some of the students have been quite industrious, others slack. It will 'all come out in the wash' and 'wash day' is tomorrow (the 24th) and the next! It has been ever thus.
Shortly after 9:00 PM on the 23rd we departed Brest for Dublin. Our eighth port (and seventh language) was less interesting than some. Still, there were attractive sights and the people were pleasant and generally helpful. I've had enough crépes for a while!
Brest to Dublin, October 23-26
This morning (October 24th) we were, for a time, making 12 knots with a combination of engine and sail. The wind has now fallen off somewhat but we're still making good time. Little shore birds (no land in sight), dolphins at the bow, and the occasional whale sighting have punctuated an otherwise uneventful day. 'My' students wrote their business exam this morning, which will be mailed to Don Bureaux (the correspondence instructor for this course) when we arrive in Ireland. My economics students write tomorrow and I will have their exams corrected within the day.
It is now 'tomorrow'. The exam went well. We are to dock in Dublin within the hour (10:00AM).
Miscellaneous comments: I sometimes yearn for more adult company. The students are emerging adults of course, but their preoccupations and silliness wear on me in such confined space. The other teachers are good company by in large, though some of them have largely adolescent agendas too. The in-port adventures are welcome of course; foreign language constraints understandably limit the conversational opportunities. There is plenty of good reading material on board. The difficulty here is that the majority of days at sea have us experiencing sailing conditions which court sea sickness, and reading makes stomach matters worse.
It is a common place to take issue with the food. Still, with allowances for the inevitable ship-board constraints, the lunch and dinner fare is unimaginative at best, unappetizing at worst. Breakfast is more or less tamper proof: dry cereal with a piece of fruit. Scrambled eggs make an appearance about once a sail. While we are in port those wishing to eat lunch or dinner on board put their names on a sigh-up list. The offerings on those occasions are generally less attractive than the at-sea ones.
The Economist pocket guide states that Ireland has 11,000 pubs (smoke free since 2004) for a population of 4 million, so I predict that a plow-man's lunch with a beverage is in my immediate future!
The weather has held – sunny days (cool in the wind), clear cold nights.
Final exams will be held on our voyage to Dublin in my two first-term courses:
Busi 2713, Introduction to Business and Econ 1013, Microeconomics. Our second term commences upon our departure from Dublin for La Coruna, Spain next Monday. The two new courses will be Macroeconomics and Environmental Economics. I am having a special 'last class' today for review. Some of the students have been quite industrious, others slack. It will 'all come out in the wash' and 'wash day' is tomorrow (the 24th) and the next! It has been ever thus.
Shortly after 9:00 PM on the 23rd we departed Brest for Dublin. Our eighth port (and seventh language) was less interesting than some. Still, there were attractive sights and the people were pleasant and generally helpful. I've had enough crépes for a while!
Brest to Dublin, October 23-26
This morning (October 24th) we were, for a time, making 12 knots with a combination of engine and sail. The wind has now fallen off somewhat but we're still making good time. Little shore birds (no land in sight), dolphins at the bow, and the occasional whale sighting have punctuated an otherwise uneventful day. 'My' students wrote their business exam this morning, which will be mailed to Don Bureaux (the correspondence instructor for this course) when we arrive in Ireland. My economics students write tomorrow and I will have their exams corrected within the day.
It is now 'tomorrow'. The exam went well. We are to dock in Dublin within the hour (10:00AM).
Miscellaneous comments: I sometimes yearn for more adult company. The students are emerging adults of course, but their preoccupations and silliness wear on me in such confined space. The other teachers are good company by in large, though some of them have largely adolescent agendas too. The in-port adventures are welcome of course; foreign language constraints understandably limit the conversational opportunities. There is plenty of good reading material on board. The difficulty here is that the majority of days at sea have us experiencing sailing conditions which court sea sickness, and reading makes stomach matters worse.
It is a common place to take issue with the food. Still, with allowances for the inevitable ship-board constraints, the lunch and dinner fare is unimaginative at best, unappetizing at worst. Breakfast is more or less tamper proof: dry cereal with a piece of fruit. Scrambled eggs make an appearance about once a sail. While we are in port those wishing to eat lunch or dinner on board put their names on a sigh-up list. The offerings on those occasions are generally less attractive than the at-sea ones.
The Economist pocket guide states that Ireland has 11,000 pubs (smoke free since 2004) for a population of 4 million, so I predict that a plow-man's lunch with a beverage is in my immediate future!
Monday, October 22, 2007
October 11-21st, London -- Brest
London, October 11-15th.
Our berth in London was at Canary Wharf, a most desirable address. It actually required the raising of a bridge and the use of a lock to come to our actual resting spot. Access to the sites of London then required a journey in to 'town' on the Jubilee line – quite convenient actually. Claudia and I purchased three-day zones one and two, tube and bus passes, a choice we have found to be valuable in the past. The ship arrived in late afternoon on Thursday. Claudia flew in on Friday morning (with aircraft difficulties – smoke in the cockpit no less, she was delayed by several hours). We had agreed to meet up at the National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, and at her hotel as back up. An e-mail message from Stephen, relayed from Claudia, allowed me to go with plan 'B'.
We had a wonderful three days catching up in person, with lots of walking under pleasant skies, an excellent (serious) musical, 'Blood Brothers', and plenty of good food including lunch at the Borough Market (London Bridge) and some terrific Indian food (the first 'meal' back on board today underlined the blinding contrast!) I shall be seeing Claudia again in a little over two weeks in La Caruna, Spain. In the mean time there will be visits to Brest, France and Dublin, Ireland for the ship and me, and a trip to a long-time friend, to Jane Austin country, and cycling in northern Spain (with Carol Dewar) for Claudia.
I haven't been sending many postcards, and certainly none from London as the postal system is suffering through one of its periodic strikes. The big sporting event of the moment was England's "spanking" of France in rugby. Unleaded regular is just under a pound a litre (about $2.04 Canadian), and it is best – for peace of mind – to pretend that the pound is a dollar when it comes to buying most anything but milk, bread, chocolate and wine!
The students enjoyed their London experiences by all accounts. (My fellow teachers gave me the time off to be with Claudia, so I didn't take part in the in-port tours. We are quite familiar with the London 'sights and sounds' from past visits.)
The Cruise to Brest, France, October 15-19.
We reversed our passage down the Thames in the fading afternoon light. Along both banks, virtually all the way to the sea, is commercial and private residential development. It wasn't until the afternoon of the 17th that we were once more under sail. The first couple of days were forgettable periods of holding on tightly to our bunks, and our stomach contents, as we bucked and splashed our way past the white cliffs of Dover, then Beachy Head in the teeth of a stubborn English Channel gale. Of course classes were held these days but learning suffered! The sun reappeared on the third day out, and the seas diminished to a tolerable level. (The decks were too wet from waves braking over them to hold morning fitness at mid-ships, or to venture about without foul weather gear.)
We continued under sail on the 18th, now 120 nautical miles or so from Brest. The winds were light, the sun shone. These are the last few days of our term one courses. Exams will be held next week on our voyage to Dublin, then second term courses will commence and run through to my last port of call in the Canary Islands. Out here on the 'high seas' it is difficult to imagine that my Acadia teaching colleagues are manning picket lines on campus (or were doing so when we left London on the 15th.) Classes continue as normal on the Concordia!
Some miscellaneous thoughts
: Sailors, as you may well know, are a superstitious lot. For example, one is not to whistle on board! Well, anyone knowing me recognizes that while it may not be the most melodic of renderings, I do whistle a lot. Various members of the professional crew, politely but in all seriousness, have asked on various occasions, that I save my melodies for shore time! It seems that the youngest person aboard is exempt from this restriction. No one is prepared to advance the privilege to the oldest.
Among other superstitions drawn to my attention: no cut flowers are to be brought aboard and a ship cannot begin a voyage on a Friday!
We eat our meals in two shifts (the mess cannot accommodate us all at once), announced by the ringing of a bell. Sometimes it is "lower bunk first", for example, or "girls first", "watches 1-3", etc. Instructors can eat when they want; however, I generally abide by the 'calls' as noted.
A lot of clubs have been formed, just as one might expect in a land-school setting. One that held its inaugural meeting recently is the "Smoothies Club", that is, blended fruit drinks. We have a Spanish club, a climbers club (those who are especially given to going to the top of the rigging), and a baking club to name a few. A fundraising initiative taking the form of 'tuck shop' sales of candy bars is thriving.
With the departure a week or so ago of my roommate (personal reasons, not his cabin mate's behaviour I have been reassured), I am enjoying private accommodation. This is likely to remain the case for the rest of my stay. Richard and I got on well, and we had many interesting conversations, but it is great to have the extra space and relative privacy. Incidentally, Richard's teaching responsibilities have been assumed by Simon and Cal, the grade 12 and Gap year directors respectively. (They had had reduced teaching loads because of their other duties; these changes make their schedules more demanding of course.)
Those knowing me recognize my interest in birds. I find it fascinating that as we near land (although not necessarily in sight of it) the sea birds come to check us out. Occasionally a land-based bird will alight on our decks, presumably having been blown off course. These visitors generally stay awhile before resuming their journeys. We dispose of our food waste while at sea. However, this doesn't appear to be part of the attraction for our feathered friends. Smart birds!
We spied a whale off port mid-ships a while ago. It didn't grace us with its presence for long however. A herd of porpoises has been frolicking at the bow for an hour or so. And four finches have decided to travel with us for a spell. They are 'gossiping' near one of the life rafts. It is a wild life afternoon it seems!
Arrival in Brest, October 19th.
We were on time for a mid-day arrival and took a pilot aboard for the last 15 miles or so. Brest will be the home port for European Tall Ships '08 and that is the reason for it been chose as this year's French port of call. (I understand our berthing and piloting fees have been assumed by the '08 organizing committee; in exchange the Concordia will play host to receptions and meeting on October 23rd with our departure for Dublin being delayed until early evening.) We are tied up in the industrial area of the port, a rather 'dodgy' location after dark.
Brest, October 19-21st
The weather has been warm and sunny the first few days of our stay. The night skies have been star-filled and it has been nippy (and dark) for our morning runs.
A disappointment discovered shortly after arrival was that the faculty strike at Acadia has led to the university withdrawing e-mail services and I am, for the moment, without means of checking my messages. I have contacted Claudia through a friend's account and will likely set up an alternative hot mail account. The local McDonald's has wireless so I was able to phone Barna via Skype (and talk with Maya too) and bring her up to date. I'm wondering if I am supposed to be on strike. I'm not, and have no intention of participating in 'industrial action'. Perhaps my pay is being suspended. I will not be pleased if such is the case.
A number of the students (and a couple of teachers) are tomorrow (Monday) making a trip to Mont St Michel. It is a four-hour combined train-bus trip (each way) which I have declined. We had visited the site back in 1994 during our year at Exeter (and were in the area again last year) and have no strong desire for a repeat visit.
Today we had (another) aquarium visit and a nautical museum is a possibility for tomorrow (for those not going to Mont St Michel.) Earlier today we walked to the Brest Sunday morning market. I had my little cup of 'silty' coffee with a ham and cheese crepe and took in all the sights. Yesterday a group of us went on a sea-coast hike – it was stunning scenery – and then had crepes for lunch!
Our berth in London was at Canary Wharf, a most desirable address. It actually required the raising of a bridge and the use of a lock to come to our actual resting spot. Access to the sites of London then required a journey in to 'town' on the Jubilee line – quite convenient actually. Claudia and I purchased three-day zones one and two, tube and bus passes, a choice we have found to be valuable in the past. The ship arrived in late afternoon on Thursday. Claudia flew in on Friday morning (with aircraft difficulties – smoke in the cockpit no less, she was delayed by several hours). We had agreed to meet up at the National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, and at her hotel as back up. An e-mail message from Stephen, relayed from Claudia, allowed me to go with plan 'B'.
We had a wonderful three days catching up in person, with lots of walking under pleasant skies, an excellent (serious) musical, 'Blood Brothers', and plenty of good food including lunch at the Borough Market (London Bridge) and some terrific Indian food (the first 'meal' back on board today underlined the blinding contrast!) I shall be seeing Claudia again in a little over two weeks in La Caruna, Spain. In the mean time there will be visits to Brest, France and Dublin, Ireland for the ship and me, and a trip to a long-time friend, to Jane Austin country, and cycling in northern Spain (with Carol Dewar) for Claudia.
I haven't been sending many postcards, and certainly none from London as the postal system is suffering through one of its periodic strikes. The big sporting event of the moment was England's "spanking" of France in rugby. Unleaded regular is just under a pound a litre (about $2.04 Canadian), and it is best – for peace of mind – to pretend that the pound is a dollar when it comes to buying most anything but milk, bread, chocolate and wine!
The students enjoyed their London experiences by all accounts. (My fellow teachers gave me the time off to be with Claudia, so I didn't take part in the in-port tours. We are quite familiar with the London 'sights and sounds' from past visits.)
The Cruise to Brest, France, October 15-19.
We reversed our passage down the Thames in the fading afternoon light. Along both banks, virtually all the way to the sea, is commercial and private residential development. It wasn't until the afternoon of the 17th that we were once more under sail. The first couple of days were forgettable periods of holding on tightly to our bunks, and our stomach contents, as we bucked and splashed our way past the white cliffs of Dover, then Beachy Head in the teeth of a stubborn English Channel gale. Of course classes were held these days but learning suffered! The sun reappeared on the third day out, and the seas diminished to a tolerable level. (The decks were too wet from waves braking over them to hold morning fitness at mid-ships, or to venture about without foul weather gear.)
We continued under sail on the 18th, now 120 nautical miles or so from Brest. The winds were light, the sun shone. These are the last few days of our term one courses. Exams will be held next week on our voyage to Dublin, then second term courses will commence and run through to my last port of call in the Canary Islands. Out here on the 'high seas' it is difficult to imagine that my Acadia teaching colleagues are manning picket lines on campus (or were doing so when we left London on the 15th.) Classes continue as normal on the Concordia!
Some miscellaneous thoughts
: Sailors, as you may well know, are a superstitious lot. For example, one is not to whistle on board! Well, anyone knowing me recognizes that while it may not be the most melodic of renderings, I do whistle a lot. Various members of the professional crew, politely but in all seriousness, have asked on various occasions, that I save my melodies for shore time! It seems that the youngest person aboard is exempt from this restriction. No one is prepared to advance the privilege to the oldest.
Among other superstitions drawn to my attention: no cut flowers are to be brought aboard and a ship cannot begin a voyage on a Friday!
We eat our meals in two shifts (the mess cannot accommodate us all at once), announced by the ringing of a bell. Sometimes it is "lower bunk first", for example, or "girls first", "watches 1-3", etc. Instructors can eat when they want; however, I generally abide by the 'calls' as noted.
A lot of clubs have been formed, just as one might expect in a land-school setting. One that held its inaugural meeting recently is the "Smoothies Club", that is, blended fruit drinks. We have a Spanish club, a climbers club (those who are especially given to going to the top of the rigging), and a baking club to name a few. A fundraising initiative taking the form of 'tuck shop' sales of candy bars is thriving.
With the departure a week or so ago of my roommate (personal reasons, not his cabin mate's behaviour I have been reassured), I am enjoying private accommodation. This is likely to remain the case for the rest of my stay. Richard and I got on well, and we had many interesting conversations, but it is great to have the extra space and relative privacy. Incidentally, Richard's teaching responsibilities have been assumed by Simon and Cal, the grade 12 and Gap year directors respectively. (They had had reduced teaching loads because of their other duties; these changes make their schedules more demanding of course.)
Those knowing me recognize my interest in birds. I find it fascinating that as we near land (although not necessarily in sight of it) the sea birds come to check us out. Occasionally a land-based bird will alight on our decks, presumably having been blown off course. These visitors generally stay awhile before resuming their journeys. We dispose of our food waste while at sea. However, this doesn't appear to be part of the attraction for our feathered friends. Smart birds!
We spied a whale off port mid-ships a while ago. It didn't grace us with its presence for long however. A herd of porpoises has been frolicking at the bow for an hour or so. And four finches have decided to travel with us for a spell. They are 'gossiping' near one of the life rafts. It is a wild life afternoon it seems!
Arrival in Brest, October 19th.
We were on time for a mid-day arrival and took a pilot aboard for the last 15 miles or so. Brest will be the home port for European Tall Ships '08 and that is the reason for it been chose as this year's French port of call. (I understand our berthing and piloting fees have been assumed by the '08 organizing committee; in exchange the Concordia will play host to receptions and meeting on October 23rd with our departure for Dublin being delayed until early evening.) We are tied up in the industrial area of the port, a rather 'dodgy' location after dark.
Brest, October 19-21st
The weather has been warm and sunny the first few days of our stay. The night skies have been star-filled and it has been nippy (and dark) for our morning runs.
A disappointment discovered shortly after arrival was that the faculty strike at Acadia has led to the university withdrawing e-mail services and I am, for the moment, without means of checking my messages. I have contacted Claudia through a friend's account and will likely set up an alternative hot mail account. The local McDonald's has wireless so I was able to phone Barna via Skype (and talk with Maya too) and bring her up to date. I'm wondering if I am supposed to be on strike. I'm not, and have no intention of participating in 'industrial action'. Perhaps my pay is being suspended. I will not be pleased if such is the case.
A number of the students (and a couple of teachers) are tomorrow (Monday) making a trip to Mont St Michel. It is a four-hour combined train-bus trip (each way) which I have declined. We had visited the site back in 1994 during our year at Exeter (and were in the area again last year) and have no strong desire for a repeat visit.
Today we had (another) aquarium visit and a nautical museum is a possibility for tomorrow (for those not going to Mont St Michel.) Earlier today we walked to the Brest Sunday morning market. I had my little cup of 'silty' coffee with a ham and cheese crepe and took in all the sights. Yesterday a group of us went on a sea-coast hike – it was stunning scenery – and then had crepes for lunch!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Tug's log, October 4th-11th
October 4th
We are doing a ship provisioning this morning before departure. The usual sailing day teaching schedule will be followed, with classes beginning at 1:00 PM. Jan the cook has purchased a big order. I think because he is German and knows his way around this area, he can strike a good bargain. We form a human chain and pass the boxes of provisions from one to another all the way from the truck on the dock, up the gang plank, along the deck to the galley hatch, down the stairs and along the companion way to the food stores. (A little later we used the same method to get the garbage bags to a truck for disposal.)
A photographer took a picture of all of us standing along the deck, water side, from a building across the channel. We wore our Class Afloat uniforms. I assume this event was arranged by the "powers that be".
The harbour pilot and his female coworker accompanied us from our berth, down river to where the channel widens out. They left the Concordia by negotiating a crossing to a pilot boat, this being accomplished while underway. (We are experiencing light rain and a modest breeze.) Just now there was a call for free hands on deck as we put up some sail.
October 5th - 11th, Lubeck to London
October 5th. It is a sunny, cool day with relatively calm seas. Our route to London has us traveling NNW through the Kattegat, Skayerrak, then into the North Sea. It is a longer route than through the Kiel Canal, but generally less expensive as the Canal authority charges a stiff tariff and, of course, the canal does not lend itself to sailing. The weather stayed fair throughout the day, and we were under sail from late afternoon on. (Throughout the rest of the day we were under power; what wind there was, was straight into our face. As we are in a busy shipping lane at the moment there is not much opportunity for tacking.)
October 6th. Today has been a perfect early fall day. There was barely a hint of wind so we motored along, but the skies were blue, the sun was warm and everyone seemed to get a lift. The meals were better than normal too, benefiting from the fresh supplies brought aboard the last day in port.
October 7th. Sailing conditions are more favourable with some wind, but the air is raw and the seas are picking up. We are now in the North Sea, following a shipping lane along the Danish coast.
October 8th. It was still dark when we began fitness at mid ships at 7:00AM. An oil rig was visible off the starboard side. No ships were in sight. We are well away from land at the moment. Our progress since departing Lubeck suggests that we will arrive in London on Thursday as scheduled. This evening we set the ship's clocks back by an hour to conform to UK time.
October 9th. This morning the student council (3) and the teachers, in cooperation with Jan the cook, were up early (6:00 AM) preparing a special breakfast for all on board. Ordinarily breakfast consists of dry cereal and sometimes a piece of fruit. One can appreciate how monotonous this can become. Today for a treat we had pancakes and maple syrup, sausages wrapped in bacon and hash browns!
The wind picked up considerably by mid afternoon and we were tossed about until well after midnight.
October 10th. We are still under sail this morning, although the wind has dropped off considerably. At colours it was announced that we are 120 nautical miles from London so we will be getting in on time by noon tomorrow. The shipping traffic is light at the moment. Lots of oil and gas wells are to be seen. I am feeling out of touch with the rest of the world as it has been six days since we left Lubeck. My Yankees may have triumphed in their series with Cleveland, or maybe they have been eliminated. This is important information! Tomorrow I will know.
October 11th. I awoke at 6:00 AM (my usual ship wake up time) to find us in a thick fog. We had anchored late last evening at the mouth of the Thames. We will proceed up the river a certain distance and rendezvous with a pilot boat late morning for the remainder of the passage to Canary Wharf. I believe Canary Wharf is on the Jubilee tube line which should prove convenient. Claudia's flight comes in tomorrow morning early. We have agreed to meet in the restaurant in the
basement of St Martin in the Field church in Trafalgar Square. We have a B&B booked for several nights.
We are doing a ship provisioning this morning before departure. The usual sailing day teaching schedule will be followed, with classes beginning at 1:00 PM. Jan the cook has purchased a big order. I think because he is German and knows his way around this area, he can strike a good bargain. We form a human chain and pass the boxes of provisions from one to another all the way from the truck on the dock, up the gang plank, along the deck to the galley hatch, down the stairs and along the companion way to the food stores. (A little later we used the same method to get the garbage bags to a truck for disposal.)
A photographer took a picture of all of us standing along the deck, water side, from a building across the channel. We wore our Class Afloat uniforms. I assume this event was arranged by the "powers that be".
The harbour pilot and his female coworker accompanied us from our berth, down river to where the channel widens out. They left the Concordia by negotiating a crossing to a pilot boat, this being accomplished while underway. (We are experiencing light rain and a modest breeze.) Just now there was a call for free hands on deck as we put up some sail.
October 5th - 11th, Lubeck to London
October 5th. It is a sunny, cool day with relatively calm seas. Our route to London has us traveling NNW through the Kattegat, Skayerrak, then into the North Sea. It is a longer route than through the Kiel Canal, but generally less expensive as the Canal authority charges a stiff tariff and, of course, the canal does not lend itself to sailing. The weather stayed fair throughout the day, and we were under sail from late afternoon on. (Throughout the rest of the day we were under power; what wind there was, was straight into our face. As we are in a busy shipping lane at the moment there is not much opportunity for tacking.)
October 6th. Today has been a perfect early fall day. There was barely a hint of wind so we motored along, but the skies were blue, the sun was warm and everyone seemed to get a lift. The meals were better than normal too, benefiting from the fresh supplies brought aboard the last day in port.
October 7th. Sailing conditions are more favourable with some wind, but the air is raw and the seas are picking up. We are now in the North Sea, following a shipping lane along the Danish coast.
October 8th. It was still dark when we began fitness at mid ships at 7:00AM. An oil rig was visible off the starboard side. No ships were in sight. We are well away from land at the moment. Our progress since departing Lubeck suggests that we will arrive in London on Thursday as scheduled. This evening we set the ship's clocks back by an hour to conform to UK time.
October 9th. This morning the student council (3) and the teachers, in cooperation with Jan the cook, were up early (6:00 AM) preparing a special breakfast for all on board. Ordinarily breakfast consists of dry cereal and sometimes a piece of fruit. One can appreciate how monotonous this can become. Today for a treat we had pancakes and maple syrup, sausages wrapped in bacon and hash browns!
The wind picked up considerably by mid afternoon and we were tossed about until well after midnight.
October 10th. We are still under sail this morning, although the wind has dropped off considerably. At colours it was announced that we are 120 nautical miles from London so we will be getting in on time by noon tomorrow. The shipping traffic is light at the moment. Lots of oil and gas wells are to be seen. I am feeling out of touch with the rest of the world as it has been six days since we left Lubeck. My Yankees may have triumphed in their series with Cleveland, or maybe they have been eliminated. This is important information! Tomorrow I will know.
October 11th. I awoke at 6:00 AM (my usual ship wake up time) to find us in a thick fog. We had anchored late last evening at the mouth of the Thames. We will proceed up the river a certain distance and rendezvous with a pilot boat late morning for the remainder of the passage to Canary Wharf. I believe Canary Wharf is on the Jubilee tube line which should prove convenient. Claudia's flight comes in tomorrow morning early. We have agreed to meet in the restaurant in the
basement of St Martin in the Field church in Trafalgar Square. We have a B&B booked for several nights.
More scenes from the voyage (Incl. logs from Oct. 2nd and 3rd)
Wind turbines, Copenhagen harbour
View from above...
Another view from above
Sunset for a sailor
Sunset first night at sea
Stern Barbados flag
Playful advice
Berthing area, Copenhagen
My classroom
Ladas "r" us
October 2nd
Many of us took the train to Hamburg at 10:05 AM. I mention the exact time as I was so impressed with their rail transportation system, both in its punctuality and comfort, and in its pricing strategies. Up to five could travel on one 28 euro ticket (return) within a 24 hour period. The train left exactly on the minute, and 42 minutes later we were at the main station in Hamburg. This is a city flattened in the war, so there is less of an old world feeling than there would be otherwise. And it is a busy port city, with all the "aspects" that entails. Still, it was interesting to walk about. Our little group was assisted by a German speaking friend of one of the Concordia's relief captains. He gave an informal tour of the down town sites, and we took a harbour boat cruise for the rest. I managed to get to the area (a most undesirable one I might add) where the Beatles first played back in 1960. I took a picture of the club; I wouldn?t want to be around it during its open hours! We ate lunch at an outside patio overlooking the water, and had supper back in the old region of the city (near the train station). I was back to Lubeck and in bed by 10:30. It was a quiet night on the ship with all the "Gap" students staying at a youth hostel in Hamburg.
October 3rd
This is a German holiday, reunification day, so I don't know how many shops will be open. It is a beautiful morning (yesterday was sunny and warm too) with a tour of a museum scheduled for 10:00 AM. (We are within walking distance of the museum.) I went for a run on my own this morning at 6:45. Fitness was canceled for the day because with all of the comings and goings of the in port program the students are
worn out. My run took me across a bridge into the former East Germany. It is fascinating to contemplate the political changes during the years since ?the wall? came down.
There is an organ concert later this afternoon in a cathedral a short walk from the ship. Richard (my cabin mate) and I intend to go. I don't know how many students are interested.
The professional crew work on a rotation, generally 6 months on, 3 months off. Yesterday one of the engineers left (Marek Chorepa). His Polish replacement arrives today joining Krzysztof Grzybowski. I include the names here just to show that I have finally mastered them after a month or so. The captain and his two daughters (one being Kasia Zawadowicz, an audit student in my two classes) leave the ship in London, as does Lauren, the first mate, and Amanda, the bosun.
A picture is worth... (incl. Sept 27th-Oct.3rd logs)
How the "other half" lives (aka Jill's new ride...)
Furling on the port course brace
Copenhagen parking lot
Copenhagen conveyance
Concordia
Baltic sunrise
A moment at sea
September 27-29th
This is a holiday destination, an island popular with the citizens of Copenhagen. The town itself is Ronne, about the size of Kentville (without the crazy one-way traffic pattern). Our port stay is just a couple of days which should be about right. The weather is cool, windy and threatening, and while some of the available post cards suggest nude bathing is on offer, hypothermia is a likely result today! I think I'll catch up on e-mails and look around the town instead.
The planned cycle trip around the island was washed (and blown) out, so we took a bus to some castle ruins and wandered about there for a couple of hours.
It is blowing up a storm and we are heading back to sea in it! Lubeck, Germany is our next stop. I am wearing a patch behind an ear, along with the wrist bands, and my stomach is feeling fine.
September 30th
In honour of my birthday I had "happy birthday" sung to me at colours. I then experienced a blast of water from one of the fire hoses (also used to wash down the decks.) A bucket of water had served the purpose in previous birthday celebrations on board, so they upped the ante on this occasion! The students and the other teachers had made birthday cards, and at supper (dinner) time chocolate cup cakes
were served as a rare dessert. We put into Lubeck in the evening (a half-day early), and the staff and teachers took me out for beer and French fries!
October 1-3
The weather is overcast and raw so I will keep my umbrella handy. It has rained off and on for the past several days. (When packing for this adventure I followed, more or less, the suggested items in the instructions to the students. So I have five pairs of shorts and one pair of blue jeans. Given the temperatures experienced on the Baltic to date, a more appropriate allocation might well have been one pair
of shorts and five pairs of ?long johns?! It turns out that the Class Afloat office people based their packing list on last year's first term voyage which was in the south seas!)
We will have a walking tour of Lubeck (with a guide) tomorrow morning (Tuesday). In the early afternoon most of us are taking a train to Hamburg, about 90 minutes away. Many will be returning to the ship in the evening, although the university students are allowed to stay overnight (at a youth hostel).
Port mail delivery just came. I got a birthday card and letter and clipping from Claudia!
Saturday, October 6, 2007
September 21st - 27th
Friday, September 21st
The students had a field trip to a naval training school, lunch and then an overnight visit to host families. We?ll see them back tomorrow mid-morning.
Instead of taking the naval school trip I bought an hour and a half of internet time at a 7-11 (and a bottomless coffee cup), and caught up on some things. Then it was off to the Canadian Embassy where I was able to use their good offices for a (taped) phone interview with Don Connolly. The embassy folk also let me use their phone to call Claudia (who was in Halifax with Barna, Maya and Sophia), and to wish Maya a
happy third birthday.
In the evening several of the instructors went to a blues club in Old Town, a short walk from the ship. It was great music. The vocalist would do all the introductions in Swedish of course, then switch to BB King, or Stevie Ray Vaughan English once the music started.
Saturday, September 22nd
Several of us walked to the Vasa Museum, a building dedicated to the display of a completely recovered and restored warship from 1628. The Vasa capsized and sunk on its maiden voyage within sight of its launch position and with the horrified king and queen of Sweden watching. Fifty or so sailors were lost. The ship architect had apparently acceded to the ship owner's request and had added a second deck of cannon. This might well have worked to the good had he remembered to increase the ballast in the hold. With the first breath of air in the sails, the ship keeled over and sank. Tragic though it was, the coincidence of brackish water (low in salt) and soft tidal mud flats, together with the pristine condition of the ship, presented ideal preservative conditions (much like the Mary Rose's fate in England). It is a delight to view this battle ship 379 years later.
Sunday, September 23rd
A group of us went to the Aquarium this morning. While not as extensive as say the Boston Aquarium, it was well worth the half-hour walk in the fall sunlight. Earlier in the morning, we had been invited to tour a large Swedish navy supply ship berthed next to us. (It should be noted that while I have taken on this sailing adventure, and have demonstrated a liking of water conveyances over the years, I find modern navy ships to be little more than propelled computer centers. Whatever one might say on moral grounds about the legitimacy of war ships, the 17th century versions (for all their primitiveness) have a swashbuckling romance about them that is entirely lost in their modern counterparts.)
Our location here in Stockholm is the Halifax equivalent of Historic Properties and there is a constant stream of pedestrians making their way by. This is especially the case today, a Sunday. Three cross harbour ferries are also in the immediate vicinity, and two cruise ships and a car ferry from one of the outer islands have arrived in the past couple of hours.
Tomorrow morning we set sail for Bornholm, another Danish port, popular we have been told with the Copenhagen summer holiday makers. In any event it feels right to return to the sea. We will arrive on Thursday and depart again on Saturday for Lubeck, Germany.
Monday and Tuesday, September 24th and 25th.
Oh, those ocean swells! The wind has been in our teeth the past two days so we have been under power (versus sail) for the most part, and stomachs have been upset. The sea route from Stockholm to Bornholm requires some backtracking. A look at the map will show the necessity of going northeast, then southeast, before getting clear of Swedish coastal islands, at which point we made southwest and the "fun" really began. I wasn?t physically ill, but didn?t enjoy those two days much, sleeping (or lying down at least) between classes.
Wednesday, September 26th
During the night a band of showers passed through, the winds dropped, and the fog settled in. I was awakened in the wee hours by our ship's fog horn, a blast repeated every couple of minutes, designed to warn small craft (principally) of our whereabouts. The sun is attempting to make an appearance but to little avail. To everyone's relief the visibility has improved enough to dispense with the fog horn!
Classes are going well. We are at the halfway point of the university term as far as coverage is concerned. Remember, I teach two "one-term" courses from our departure until Dublin (October 26th), then teach another two ?one-term? courses from that point to the conclusion of my sailing journey in Las Palmas (the Canary Islands) December 15th. While at sea I have four classes in each course in every three-day
cycle, versus the Acadia land-based format of three classes a week. (There are no weekends as we conventionally know them in our schedule. Particularly at sea I often am unaware of the particular day of the week.)
Jan the cook has come up with several great meals of late. Yesterday we had fresh bread, soup, and an orange for lunch, and lamb with "real" potatoes and broccoli for dinner. I am missing Stirling's pie, and deserts generally. Let's have lots in London Claudia!
We had a "Coffee House" this evening, coffee and birthday cake (not for me just yet), and a number of musical numbers and skits. I participated in two ?numbers?, one a musical offering by the teachers collectively, one a skit in which I played Boris (opposite an Olga), in the format of a blind date, on a quiz show. I won't be giving up my "day job" just yet!
Thursday, September 27th
9:00 A.M. We are entering Bornholm harbour. Classes will end at lunch time and we will have shore leave for the rest of the day and tomorrow.
The students had a field trip to a naval training school, lunch and then an overnight visit to host families. We?ll see them back tomorrow mid-morning.
Instead of taking the naval school trip I bought an hour and a half of internet time at a 7-11 (and a bottomless coffee cup), and caught up on some things. Then it was off to the Canadian Embassy where I was able to use their good offices for a (taped) phone interview with Don Connolly. The embassy folk also let me use their phone to call Claudia (who was in Halifax with Barna, Maya and Sophia), and to wish Maya a
happy third birthday.
In the evening several of the instructors went to a blues club in Old Town, a short walk from the ship. It was great music. The vocalist would do all the introductions in Swedish of course, then switch to BB King, or Stevie Ray Vaughan English once the music started.
Saturday, September 22nd
Several of us walked to the Vasa Museum, a building dedicated to the display of a completely recovered and restored warship from 1628. The Vasa capsized and sunk on its maiden voyage within sight of its launch position and with the horrified king and queen of Sweden watching. Fifty or so sailors were lost. The ship architect had apparently acceded to the ship owner's request and had added a second deck of cannon. This might well have worked to the good had he remembered to increase the ballast in the hold. With the first breath of air in the sails, the ship keeled over and sank. Tragic though it was, the coincidence of brackish water (low in salt) and soft tidal mud flats, together with the pristine condition of the ship, presented ideal preservative conditions (much like the Mary Rose's fate in England). It is a delight to view this battle ship 379 years later.
Sunday, September 23rd
A group of us went to the Aquarium this morning. While not as extensive as say the Boston Aquarium, it was well worth the half-hour walk in the fall sunlight. Earlier in the morning, we had been invited to tour a large Swedish navy supply ship berthed next to us. (It should be noted that while I have taken on this sailing adventure, and have demonstrated a liking of water conveyances over the years, I find modern navy ships to be little more than propelled computer centers. Whatever one might say on moral grounds about the legitimacy of war ships, the 17th century versions (for all their primitiveness) have a swashbuckling romance about them that is entirely lost in their modern counterparts.)
Our location here in Stockholm is the Halifax equivalent of Historic Properties and there is a constant stream of pedestrians making their way by. This is especially the case today, a Sunday. Three cross harbour ferries are also in the immediate vicinity, and two cruise ships and a car ferry from one of the outer islands have arrived in the past couple of hours.
Tomorrow morning we set sail for Bornholm, another Danish port, popular we have been told with the Copenhagen summer holiday makers. In any event it feels right to return to the sea. We will arrive on Thursday and depart again on Saturday for Lubeck, Germany.
Monday and Tuesday, September 24th and 25th.
Oh, those ocean swells! The wind has been in our teeth the past two days so we have been under power (versus sail) for the most part, and stomachs have been upset. The sea route from Stockholm to Bornholm requires some backtracking. A look at the map will show the necessity of going northeast, then southeast, before getting clear of Swedish coastal islands, at which point we made southwest and the "fun" really began. I wasn?t physically ill, but didn?t enjoy those two days much, sleeping (or lying down at least) between classes.
Wednesday, September 26th
During the night a band of showers passed through, the winds dropped, and the fog settled in. I was awakened in the wee hours by our ship's fog horn, a blast repeated every couple of minutes, designed to warn small craft (principally) of our whereabouts. The sun is attempting to make an appearance but to little avail. To everyone's relief the visibility has improved enough to dispense with the fog horn!
Classes are going well. We are at the halfway point of the university term as far as coverage is concerned. Remember, I teach two "one-term" courses from our departure until Dublin (October 26th), then teach another two ?one-term? courses from that point to the conclusion of my sailing journey in Las Palmas (the Canary Islands) December 15th. While at sea I have four classes in each course in every three-day
cycle, versus the Acadia land-based format of three classes a week. (There are no weekends as we conventionally know them in our schedule. Particularly at sea I often am unaware of the particular day of the week.)
Jan the cook has come up with several great meals of late. Yesterday we had fresh bread, soup, and an orange for lunch, and lamb with "real" potatoes and broccoli for dinner. I am missing Stirling's pie, and deserts generally. Let's have lots in London Claudia!
We had a "Coffee House" this evening, coffee and birthday cake (not for me just yet), and a number of musical numbers and skits. I participated in two ?numbers?, one a musical offering by the teachers collectively, one a skit in which I played Boris (opposite an Olga), in the format of a blind date, on a quiz show. I won't be giving up my "day job" just yet!
Thursday, September 27th
9:00 A.M. We are entering Bornholm harbour. Classes will end at lunch time and we will have shore leave for the rest of the day and tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
September 16th - 18th; 18th, 19th & 20th
Mariehamn, Finland, Sunday Afternoon, September 16th
We docked successfully and had a free afternoon in port. Mariehamn is a small city - clean, quiet and hospitable. We are berthed next to what could be described as a country lane, with early fall colours beginning to show. (Remember, we are 60 degrees North latitude here.) I'll describe the port program as it unfolds over the next couple of days. We're here until Wednesday, and then it is an overnight sail to Stockholm for a few days.
Monday, September 17th.
I haven't said much about the professional crew on board. There are two Polish engineers who pretty well keep to themselves and speak - well - Polish. They're pleasant enough, like to fish off the stern, and cook, but really live in a parallel universe with their engines, fuel gages, etc. The captain is Polish too, but has a fair bit to say (in English). He has his two daughters aboard (22 and 18, I think). The older one, Kate, is in my two classes and I am getting to know her well. She is off to study law after Christmas. The first mate, Lauren (who I have mentioned before) has oversight responsibilities for many things and along with Cheryl, second mate from Cape Breton, the boson, Amanda, from Brier Island, and the boson's mate, Josh, from Bermuda, co-ordinate the sail training of the students along with their other specific duties.They are a patient lot, and good at what they do. The cook, Jan ('Yawn') is an interesting fellow. He's German, and nuance or subtlety is not his strong suite. His meals, constrained as he is by the aboard ship realities, are generally substantial but unimaginative.
We have a running gag going. He is a Boston Red Sox fan of all things and since the day early on when I wore my Yankees tee
shirt to the mess he always has something to say about the relative merits of the two teams. The Yankees beat the Red Sox in Fenway last night (this morning in Finland) in dramatic fashion and it was my duty to inform him of this outcome at the first available opportunity. He just grunted and walked off; I bought him a 'Yankee' chocolate bar in town this afternoon and presented this offering at dinner. Of course he was confronted with a real dilemma - a chocolate lover who hates the Yankees. His compromise was to strip the wrapper off, hand it back, and eat the bar. It looked a lot like he smiled at me too.
Always stay on the good side of the cook!
Our organized outing today was great. After an earlier than usual breakfast we walked the 20- minute distance across the island to the other shore where we were treated to a tour of a wooden boat museum, then off on a bus tour of greater Mariehamn, with lunch at a sort of Ross Farm without the animals. The people who hosted were great - we all are developing a strong liking for these Fins who speak Swedish (and English), claim Aland (pronounced Oh-land) as their real home,
and have a genuine warmth about them. After lunch we went for a further bus trip to a Point Pleasant Park type location where we had an hour and a half to hike about. The weather was pleasant and the memories of two tough days in the Bay of Finland receded. The bus took us back to the ship by mid- afternoon to help with unloading the provisions Jan had purchased earlier. I then rushed back downtown - 15 minutes on foot from the ship - to mail a memory stick with
pictures to Steve's address. (I've had little success to date in sending pictures home via e-mail.)
It is a beautiful evening - the teachers are going out for a beer tonight and to reflect on our voyage thus far!
Tuesday, September 18th.
Our host/guide from yesterday will be along after breakfast to take us on another outing.
(To be continued).
Continued! (...apologies for the delay, folks - JT)
Tuesday, September 18th.
Our host/guide from yesterday - Henryk - will be along after breakfast to take us on another outing. He is an accomplished man - a tall ship captain of some acclaim, past curator of the maritime museum here in Mariehamn, and an instructor in matters relating to sail training and navigation at the local community college. We will have a tour of another tall ship - the Pommern - which is in a permanent exhibit berth down the quay. It is one of the last best examples of the last generation of metal sailing ships. Then we have a tour of (another) Marine Museum and lunch in the community college cafeteria.
All the above has now happened, and a few of us then hired cycles (as opposed to renting bikes - there is a 125-strong Harley hog riders group in the area) and toured around for several hours. It was most enjoyable - dedicated cycle lanes, all paved, with "South Shore"-like vistas without the traffic. I must say once more, the people of Aland (and Mariehamn in particular) are a friendly, gracious lot, a welcome
antidote to the "hustle and bustle", dirt and dastardly criminal element in evidence in St Petersburg.
The instructors take turns on gangway watch at curfew time. I'm on tonight - it's 10:50 and all the students are aboard. 11:00 PM is the 'witching' hour. There is no passport control here (beyond the check when we first arrived) which makes our comings and goings much easier than in Russia, say, where we had to clear customs every time. Throughout the days in port, individuals are checked in and out through a regular gangway watch which the students are obliged to man. We have gone jogging the last two mornings at fitness time (7:00 AM) down a country lane along the water - a beautiful start to the day.
Wednesday, September 19th.
We are in the process of leaving our berth to head off to Stockholm with a tentative arrival mid-evening. Classes will be held today starting a bit later (the second half of day 3 which was suspended upon our arrival in Mariehamn.) Tomorrow through to Monday (the days of the week mean little on a ship), we will be in Stockholm.
Here is a bit of cross-cultural language ambiguity - or junior high humour - depending on your perspective. A common, and oft photographed, sign in Mariehamn is "Fart Hinder". It is Swedish for speed bump, or "sleeping policeman". There is a large billboard for Pepsi in the town; the prose reads 'Find pleasure orally', a bit OTT for a soft drink! And one of the many ferries which ply the waters in Aland is named the "Birka Paradise". (It certainly is chilly enough just now for a head covering, religious traditions not withstanding.)
8:30 PM. We are now docking in Stockholm. The approach in for the past hour was fascinating. We came through narrow channels with beautiful homes and high rises on both sides (all furnished by IKEA presumably.)
Thursday, September 20th
It is 6:00 AM in the Stockholm harbour. I'm playing ABBA on my i-pod - we're in Sweden after all. One of the big digital update monitors on an office high rise reports a temperature of 10C. The weather is clear, the city is coming awake - busses, trains, delivery trucks and early commuters (including many cyclists) are making their presence felt. We are berthed in Old Town, an island right in the city
centre. The fitness group will be jogging around the Old Town perimeter at 7:00 AM or so.
We have an interesting in-port program that will unfold over the next several days, including an overnight home visit for each of the students and a visit to the Concordia by some prominent individuals. I'll report on all this later.
We docked successfully and had a free afternoon in port. Mariehamn is a small city - clean, quiet and hospitable. We are berthed next to what could be described as a country lane, with early fall colours beginning to show. (Remember, we are 60 degrees North latitude here.) I'll describe the port program as it unfolds over the next couple of days. We're here until Wednesday, and then it is an overnight sail to Stockholm for a few days.
Monday, September 17th.
I haven't said much about the professional crew on board. There are two Polish engineers who pretty well keep to themselves and speak - well - Polish. They're pleasant enough, like to fish off the stern, and cook, but really live in a parallel universe with their engines, fuel gages, etc. The captain is Polish too, but has a fair bit to say (in English). He has his two daughters aboard (22 and 18, I think). The older one, Kate, is in my two classes and I am getting to know her well. She is off to study law after Christmas. The first mate, Lauren (who I have mentioned before) has oversight responsibilities for many things and along with Cheryl, second mate from Cape Breton, the boson, Amanda, from Brier Island, and the boson's mate, Josh, from Bermuda, co-ordinate the sail training of the students along with their other specific duties.They are a patient lot, and good at what they do. The cook, Jan ('Yawn') is an interesting fellow. He's German, and nuance or subtlety is not his strong suite. His meals, constrained as he is by the aboard ship realities, are generally substantial but unimaginative.
We have a running gag going. He is a Boston Red Sox fan of all things and since the day early on when I wore my Yankees tee
shirt to the mess he always has something to say about the relative merits of the two teams. The Yankees beat the Red Sox in Fenway last night (this morning in Finland) in dramatic fashion and it was my duty to inform him of this outcome at the first available opportunity. He just grunted and walked off; I bought him a 'Yankee' chocolate bar in town this afternoon and presented this offering at dinner. Of course he was confronted with a real dilemma - a chocolate lover who hates the Yankees. His compromise was to strip the wrapper off, hand it back, and eat the bar. It looked a lot like he smiled at me too.
Always stay on the good side of the cook!
Our organized outing today was great. After an earlier than usual breakfast we walked the 20- minute distance across the island to the other shore where we were treated to a tour of a wooden boat museum, then off on a bus tour of greater Mariehamn, with lunch at a sort of Ross Farm without the animals. The people who hosted were great - we all are developing a strong liking for these Fins who speak Swedish (and English), claim Aland (pronounced Oh-land) as their real home,
and have a genuine warmth about them. After lunch we went for a further bus trip to a Point Pleasant Park type location where we had an hour and a half to hike about. The weather was pleasant and the memories of two tough days in the Bay of Finland receded. The bus took us back to the ship by mid- afternoon to help with unloading the provisions Jan had purchased earlier. I then rushed back downtown - 15 minutes on foot from the ship - to mail a memory stick with
pictures to Steve's address. (I've had little success to date in sending pictures home via e-mail.)
It is a beautiful evening - the teachers are going out for a beer tonight and to reflect on our voyage thus far!
Tuesday, September 18th.
Our host/guide from yesterday will be along after breakfast to take us on another outing.
(To be continued).
Continued! (...apologies for the delay, folks - JT)
Tuesday, September 18th.
Our host/guide from yesterday - Henryk - will be along after breakfast to take us on another outing. He is an accomplished man - a tall ship captain of some acclaim, past curator of the maritime museum here in Mariehamn, and an instructor in matters relating to sail training and navigation at the local community college. We will have a tour of another tall ship - the Pommern - which is in a permanent exhibit berth down the quay. It is one of the last best examples of the last generation of metal sailing ships. Then we have a tour of (another) Marine Museum and lunch in the community college cafeteria.
All the above has now happened, and a few of us then hired cycles (as opposed to renting bikes - there is a 125-strong Harley hog riders group in the area) and toured around for several hours. It was most enjoyable - dedicated cycle lanes, all paved, with "South Shore"-like vistas without the traffic. I must say once more, the people of Aland (and Mariehamn in particular) are a friendly, gracious lot, a welcome
antidote to the "hustle and bustle", dirt and dastardly criminal element in evidence in St Petersburg.
The instructors take turns on gangway watch at curfew time. I'm on tonight - it's 10:50 and all the students are aboard. 11:00 PM is the 'witching' hour. There is no passport control here (beyond the check when we first arrived) which makes our comings and goings much easier than in Russia, say, where we had to clear customs every time. Throughout the days in port, individuals are checked in and out through a regular gangway watch which the students are obliged to man. We have gone jogging the last two mornings at fitness time (7:00 AM) down a country lane along the water - a beautiful start to the day.
Wednesday, September 19th.
We are in the process of leaving our berth to head off to Stockholm with a tentative arrival mid-evening. Classes will be held today starting a bit later (the second half of day 3 which was suspended upon our arrival in Mariehamn.) Tomorrow through to Monday (the days of the week mean little on a ship), we will be in Stockholm.
Here is a bit of cross-cultural language ambiguity - or junior high humour - depending on your perspective. A common, and oft photographed, sign in Mariehamn is "Fart Hinder". It is Swedish for speed bump, or "sleeping policeman". There is a large billboard for Pepsi in the town; the prose reads 'Find pleasure orally', a bit OTT for a soft drink! And one of the many ferries which ply the waters in Aland is named the "Birka Paradise". (It certainly is chilly enough just now for a head covering, religious traditions not withstanding.)
8:30 PM. We are now docking in Stockholm. The approach in for the past hour was fascinating. We came through narrow channels with beautiful homes and high rises on both sides (all furnished by IKEA presumably.)
Thursday, September 20th
It is 6:00 AM in the Stockholm harbour. I'm playing ABBA on my i-pod - we're in Sweden after all. One of the big digital update monitors on an office high rise reports a temperature of 10C. The weather is clear, the city is coming awake - busses, trains, delivery trucks and early commuters (including many cyclists) are making their presence felt. We are berthed in Old Town, an island right in the city
centre. The fitness group will be jogging around the Old Town perimeter at 7:00 AM or so.
We have an interesting in-port program that will unfold over the next several days, including an overnight home visit for each of the students and a visit to the Concordia by some prominent individuals. I'll report on all this later.
September 12th - 16th
Dr T's Log Supplemental
September 12th, the last full day in St Petersburg:
Our visit to the university, and the presentation by the professor was worthwhile, although - truthfully - his reflections on the 'Russia of today' were no more revealing than what I had gleaned from The Economist over the past several months. He did speak with surprising candor of the corruption - 'the most dangerous enemy of Russia today, the emphasis on restoration of basic infrastructure - St Petersburg's
streets, building facades, sewer and water lines, seem to be being replaced all at once (it is Putin's home town), the depopulation of the country (partially through immigration but principally because of low birth rates), the relative prosperity of the cities and the decline of the hinterland, the widespread ambivalence the Russian
people have toward the new economic way versus a return to the command economy, and the great popularity of President Putin and the constitutional difficulty arising as he finishes his second of two terms. (In question period I asked, in my way, whether Mrs. Putin harboured any political ambitions, thinking that perhaps we could have
a 'Hillary follows Bill' possibility in Moscow too. He didn't seem to catch on to the parallel I was drawing - I've seen looks of disapproval like that before (KKO) but the student audience warmed to it.
Thursday, September 13th, (Jim Dewar's birthday) 'ship out' at 9:00 AM
for Mariehamn, Finland.
We were all tired out after several days in port - I'm guessing I walked 10 km a day about the city. The departure from the dock proceeded without incident (the cat which had adopted us stayed behind). As soon as we rounded the headland at the port entrance we met with strong headwinds and choppy seas (power only, no sail). The
wind freshened as the Bay of Finland widened out and we had a lot of uncomfortable sailors. You probably are familiar with the old line "What would you do with a one armed economist?" for he wouldn't be able to say 'on the one hand', and 'on the other'. Well, I managed to teach my three hours yesterday while hanging on to the desk or any other fixed object near to hand. In all my days in Acadia classrooms I
had never had anyone respond to my pearls of wisdom via a public display of stomach sickness. Well it happened twice yesterday! By dinner time (6:30 PM) I wasn't feeling on the top of my game either. The wind, if anything, had picked up a couple of notches, and the deck was plenty wet on the windward side (the 'chuckers' were
populating the leeward rail). The seas were splashing up on the cabin portholes, which don't open for obvious reasons. When I reached the mess I knew I was being personally tested - the entree was sauerkraut and pork bits on a bed of rice. Now Claudia will attest to the fact that I have been know to eat sauerkraut on (rare) occasions, and am somewhat partial to sauerkraut chocolate cake, so this is not meant as a cheap shot over the marital table so to speak. I was sitting next to Shelly the MO (medical officer) and she recommended a bit of rice and a couple of glasses of water, and to bed. That is what I did, and slept right through to fitness this morning without 'losing it' as it were. And I feel great, and very hungry!
Friday, September 14th, a beautiful sunny day with light winds, and
moderate seas
We had the usual dry cereal choices for breakfast and fresh fruit cup as an added bonus. One of the announcements at Colours was the looming shortage of bathroom tissue! We're two days out of Finland and we have a shortage of this nature - fortunately, Richard and I had squirreled away an extra roll - we are taking turns standing guard over it! My classes this afternoon will be the ninth in each of the courses (out of 34 or so); remember I am teaching two terms between now and Christmas. The first term ends when we arrive in Dublin. Currently I have Principles of Economics, Micro and Introduction to Business (which I am facilitating for Don Bureaux, the DCE instructor of record). After Dublin my scholars and I take up Principles of Economics, Macro and Environmental Economics. The class sizes for
these four courses are (approximately and respectively) 17, 9, 9, and 8. (The inflated enrolment in 'Micro' is explained in part by the requirement of it as a prerequisite for my second year environment course.)
The ship has a limited number of places to hang out. I am in the seminar room just now with my laptop. This is a 10 by 10 space with seating for 8 in a pinch. It is right next door to my cabin, the stairs to the mess is across the companion way, and the stairs down to the laundry room is around the corner. The mess doubles as a
classroom, with the real classroom at the stern. Cabin #123, Richard and me, is well forward from mid ships, and in weather you can feel it!
Later Friday, 4:00 PM through the night and into Saturday, September
15th
Following a pattern known to Baltic sailors I am told, a nasty little wind storm arrived late afternoon. The wind, light throughout the day, shifted around to be directly from the west, in our face, at speeds gusting to 35 knots. The waves increased to 5-8 metres, and conditions were generally uncomfortable. All sail was taken down, storm safety lines were strung all round on deck, and (lock in) safety harness was mandatory.
I took supper, with some reluctance - the mess wasn't crowded - and retired to my bunk early. I slept through the night (with my supper) but was aware of being lifted off my mattress on a number of occasions, especially when the bow sprit was (temporarily) submerged. (Once I heard the prop wine as it came out of the water.) There is a wide board that is attached to the bunk which one can put in a vertical position in rough seas. It was the only thing that kept me from falling out!
Classes are on today as is the case every day while at sea, but with the winds still strong the learning environment is severely compromised. My Econ 1013 students have a test this afternoon. As several of them are suffering severe seasickness I have amended the evaluative scheme to count the best 2/3 tests.
The wind came up further in the late afternoon hitting 45 knots on a couple of occasions. We were sliding all over the mess benches at dinner time (i.e., supper), and it was early to bed once more. I woke early and marked the tests from yesterday.
Sunday, September 16th, arrival in Finland
We arrive in Marienham about lunch time, so this morning is a regular class schedule. The winds are much reduced and we are in the lea of the land as we approach port. I'll open the bank at 11 AM - the Finns use the Euro - after my double Business class, and should have some free time in port this afternoon and evening. So I'll send this blog entry along.
September 12th, the last full day in St Petersburg:
Our visit to the university, and the presentation by the professor was worthwhile, although - truthfully - his reflections on the 'Russia of today' were no more revealing than what I had gleaned from The Economist over the past several months. He did speak with surprising candor of the corruption - 'the most dangerous enemy of Russia today, the emphasis on restoration of basic infrastructure - St Petersburg's
streets, building facades, sewer and water lines, seem to be being replaced all at once (it is Putin's home town), the depopulation of the country (partially through immigration but principally because of low birth rates), the relative prosperity of the cities and the decline of the hinterland, the widespread ambivalence the Russian
people have toward the new economic way versus a return to the command economy, and the great popularity of President Putin and the constitutional difficulty arising as he finishes his second of two terms. (In question period I asked, in my way, whether Mrs. Putin harboured any political ambitions, thinking that perhaps we could have
a 'Hillary follows Bill' possibility in Moscow too. He didn't seem to catch on to the parallel I was drawing - I've seen looks of disapproval like that before (KKO) but the student audience warmed to it.
Thursday, September 13th, (Jim Dewar's birthday) 'ship out' at 9:00 AM
for Mariehamn, Finland.
We were all tired out after several days in port - I'm guessing I walked 10 km a day about the city. The departure from the dock proceeded without incident (the cat which had adopted us stayed behind). As soon as we rounded the headland at the port entrance we met with strong headwinds and choppy seas (power only, no sail). The
wind freshened as the Bay of Finland widened out and we had a lot of uncomfortable sailors. You probably are familiar with the old line "What would you do with a one armed economist?" for he wouldn't be able to say 'on the one hand', and 'on the other'. Well, I managed to teach my three hours yesterday while hanging on to the desk or any other fixed object near to hand. In all my days in Acadia classrooms I
had never had anyone respond to my pearls of wisdom via a public display of stomach sickness. Well it happened twice yesterday! By dinner time (6:30 PM) I wasn't feeling on the top of my game either. The wind, if anything, had picked up a couple of notches, and the deck was plenty wet on the windward side (the 'chuckers' were
populating the leeward rail). The seas were splashing up on the cabin portholes, which don't open for obvious reasons. When I reached the mess I knew I was being personally tested - the entree was sauerkraut and pork bits on a bed of rice. Now Claudia will attest to the fact that I have been know to eat sauerkraut on (rare) occasions, and am somewhat partial to sauerkraut chocolate cake, so this is not meant as a cheap shot over the marital table so to speak. I was sitting next to Shelly the MO (medical officer) and she recommended a bit of rice and a couple of glasses of water, and to bed. That is what I did, and slept right through to fitness this morning without 'losing it' as it were. And I feel great, and very hungry!
Friday, September 14th, a beautiful sunny day with light winds, and
moderate seas
We had the usual dry cereal choices for breakfast and fresh fruit cup as an added bonus. One of the announcements at Colours was the looming shortage of bathroom tissue! We're two days out of Finland and we have a shortage of this nature - fortunately, Richard and I had squirreled away an extra roll - we are taking turns standing guard over it! My classes this afternoon will be the ninth in each of the courses (out of 34 or so); remember I am teaching two terms between now and Christmas. The first term ends when we arrive in Dublin. Currently I have Principles of Economics, Micro and Introduction to Business (which I am facilitating for Don Bureaux, the DCE instructor of record). After Dublin my scholars and I take up Principles of Economics, Macro and Environmental Economics. The class sizes for
these four courses are (approximately and respectively) 17, 9, 9, and 8. (The inflated enrolment in 'Micro' is explained in part by the requirement of it as a prerequisite for my second year environment course.)
The ship has a limited number of places to hang out. I am in the seminar room just now with my laptop. This is a 10 by 10 space with seating for 8 in a pinch. It is right next door to my cabin, the stairs to the mess is across the companion way, and the stairs down to the laundry room is around the corner. The mess doubles as a
classroom, with the real classroom at the stern. Cabin #123, Richard and me, is well forward from mid ships, and in weather you can feel it!
Later Friday, 4:00 PM through the night and into Saturday, September
15th
Following a pattern known to Baltic sailors I am told, a nasty little wind storm arrived late afternoon. The wind, light throughout the day, shifted around to be directly from the west, in our face, at speeds gusting to 35 knots. The waves increased to 5-8 metres, and conditions were generally uncomfortable. All sail was taken down, storm safety lines were strung all round on deck, and (lock in) safety harness was mandatory.
I took supper, with some reluctance - the mess wasn't crowded - and retired to my bunk early. I slept through the night (with my supper) but was aware of being lifted off my mattress on a number of occasions, especially when the bow sprit was (temporarily) submerged. (Once I heard the prop wine as it came out of the water.) There is a wide board that is attached to the bunk which one can put in a vertical position in rough seas. It was the only thing that kept me from falling out!
Classes are on today as is the case every day while at sea, but with the winds still strong the learning environment is severely compromised. My Econ 1013 students have a test this afternoon. As several of them are suffering severe seasickness I have amended the evaluative scheme to count the best 2/3 tests.
The wind came up further in the late afternoon hitting 45 knots on a couple of occasions. We were sliding all over the mess benches at dinner time (i.e., supper), and it was early to bed once more. I woke early and marked the tests from yesterday.
Sunday, September 16th, arrival in Finland
We arrive in Marienham about lunch time, so this morning is a regular class schedule. The winds are much reduced and we are in the lea of the land as we approach port. I'll open the bank at 11 AM - the Finns use the Euro - after my double Business class, and should have some free time in port this afternoon and evening. So I'll send this blog entry along.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Concordia off once again...
Update from Kate Knight of Class Afloat:
Hi all!
I hope you are enjoying a good week; the weather is fabulous here in
Nova Scotia!
Concordia departed safely this morning from St. Petersburg and is
sailing on schedule for Finland to arrive on Sunday. The staff and
students thoroughly enjoyed the program visits to St. Isaak's Cathedral
and the Hermitage and found the university lecture informative.
Hopefully you were able to connect with your Floatie via email or
telephone at some point in time this week. News from the staff is that
all is well and most people were over their seasickness by the time the
vessel approached Russia; we'll see if it returns on this short sail!
Don't forget to check the ship's log on our website to follow
Concordia's progress.
Some of the clubs which have already started on board, and which will
continue this sail, include the French & Spanish clubs, First Aid club,
Social Committee, Dive Club and the Smoothie Club (great on long
sails!).
The port program for Finland includes a visit to a local shipbuilding
museum and traditional lunch and a guided tour of the S/V Pommern and
the Maritime Museum of Mariehamn. This area is also excellent for
hiking and cycling and students will be encouraged to get outside of town and
explore the area.
Have a fantastic weekend and I will update you with news on Monday once
the vessel is back in port!
Cheers,
Kate
Hi all!
I hope you are enjoying a good week; the weather is fabulous here in
Nova Scotia!
Concordia departed safely this morning from St. Petersburg and is
sailing on schedule for Finland to arrive on Sunday. The staff and
students thoroughly enjoyed the program visits to St. Isaak's Cathedral
and the Hermitage and found the university lecture informative.
Hopefully you were able to connect with your Floatie via email or
telephone at some point in time this week. News from the staff is that
all is well and most people were over their seasickness by the time the
vessel approached Russia; we'll see if it returns on this short sail!
Don't forget to check the ship's log on our website to follow
Concordia's progress.
Some of the clubs which have already started on board, and which will
continue this sail, include the French & Spanish clubs, First Aid club,
Social Committee, Dive Club and the Smoothie Club (great on long
sails!).
The port program for Finland includes a visit to a local shipbuilding
museum and traditional lunch and a guided tour of the S/V Pommern and
the Maritime Museum of Mariehamn. This area is also excellent for
hiking and cycling and students will be encouraged to get outside of town and
explore the area.
Have a fantastic weekend and I will update you with news on Monday once
the vessel is back in port!
Cheers,
Kate
St. Petersburg, cont'd.
DIRECT FROM Papa Tug's EMAIL:
St Petersburg, Russia, September 10-11:
(written Tuesday morning, September 11th, after fitness)
Yesterday morning our local guide Olga - yes it is a popular name - walked us (20 minutes from our berth at the English Embankment, Anglyiskaya Naberzhnayay) to St. Isaak's Cathedral, a beautiful historic structure, full of mosaics and paintings. Named by Peter the Great after the patron saint of his birth date (May 30th - Sophia's too), it deserves all the superlatives one can muster. Our guide for the interior walk about spoke excellent English - her mother had been an English teacher in the Russian school system for years.
This morning Olga will be back - it is raining and cold - and we will walk to the Hermitage (15 minutes), the old Winter Palace of the Czars. Tomorrow a professor Boris Shirayev - the first Chair of the Advisory Council of their Canadian Studies Association in St Petersburg (and a lot of other things) will speak on "The New Russia".
I'm sharpening my pencil, as the senior academic on the ship. Should I risk an all expenses paid trip further to the north?
A bit of this and that:
* The weather has been remarkably good in our first two weeks, all things considered.
* With all the walking while in port, and climbing (and teaching) while at sea, and fitness classes every morning at 7:00 AM, I'm feeling good.
* A group of us ate lunch yesterday at the equivalent of a Russian "Swiss Chalet". Two of the items on offer were Baked pig's leg with stewed cabbage, and Mother-in-law tongue salad. There is no truth to the rumour that Tim Horton's is thinking of picking up these delights for their luncheon menu!
* The young people on board are excellent - interesting, interested, and high energy - but there are times I find the on-board space confining. I went for a walk on my own last evening, and Dylan's music took me to other places.
St Petersburg, Russia, September 10-11:
(written Tuesday morning, September 11th, after fitness)
Yesterday morning our local guide Olga - yes it is a popular name - walked us (20 minutes from our berth at the English Embankment, Anglyiskaya Naberzhnayay) to St. Isaak's Cathedral, a beautiful historic structure, full of mosaics and paintings. Named by Peter the Great after the patron saint of his birth date (May 30th - Sophia's too), it deserves all the superlatives one can muster. Our guide for the interior walk about spoke excellent English - her mother had been an English teacher in the Russian school system for years.
This morning Olga will be back - it is raining and cold - and we will walk to the Hermitage (15 minutes), the old Winter Palace of the Czars. Tomorrow a professor Boris Shirayev - the first Chair of the Advisory Council of their Canadian Studies Association in St Petersburg (and a lot of other things) will speak on "The New Russia".
I'm sharpening my pencil, as the senior academic on the ship. Should I risk an all expenses paid trip further to the north?
A bit of this and that:
* The weather has been remarkably good in our first two weeks, all things considered.
* With all the walking while in port, and climbing (and teaching) while at sea, and fitness classes every morning at 7:00 AM, I'm feeling good.
* A group of us ate lunch yesterday at the equivalent of a Russian "Swiss Chalet". Two of the items on offer were Baked pig's leg with stewed cabbage, and Mother-in-law tongue salad. There is no truth to the rumour that Tim Horton's is thinking of picking up these delights for their luncheon menu!
* The young people on board are excellent - interesting, interested, and high energy - but there are times I find the on-board space confining. I went for a walk on my own last evening, and Dylan's music took me to other places.
Copenhagen & Beyond; First Impressions of St. Petersburg
DIRECT FROM Papa Tug's EMAIL:
September 3 - September 8
Copenhagen departure: Parents and other family members (still in the area) were invited to a modest send off 'coffee hour' on board which concluded 15 minutes prior to departure. My watch group (all on-board instructors have six or seven students for whom they take general oversight responsibility - their watch dog) was responsible for removing the gangway after the guests had departed to wave their teary farewells from the shore. We, of course, had never done this before, and while a simple exercise, it needed to be done seamlessly. The banners on the sides and the heavy netting below were taken away first, then the aluminum poles and ropes from the sides of the gangway, and finally the hoist was connected to what remained (the "plank?" as in gang plank, I suppose). A member of the professional crew performed this last duty (the boson's mate, Josh, a Bermudian) and my watch group guided the free swinging load to its assigned resting place. Whew, and as Dora would say, "We did it!"
Alas, not all was to be, well, "smooth sailing". The captain cannot see the stern of the ship from the bridge where he is located. He depends upon lookouts to be his eyes. The lookouts are generally students with one "pro crew" member. The students will be trained, but this was their first five minutes at sea. At the stern, raised up on a supporting framework and extending beyond the ship proper by a couple of feet, is one of the two ship tenders (the other is at mid-ships on the roof of the mess), a zodiac, ready to go. As the captain maneuvered the Concordia away from her berth next to the pier, he had to turn the ship completely around, in order to head toward the harbour entrance. Forward and aft of us were two other ships. (It was
a bit like being tightly parallel parked and pulling out while making a U-turn, with cars parked on the other side of the street. Oh, and having a filled bicycle rack on back.) In our maneuver, the ship's rear tender grazed a pier abutment, partially releasing the zodiac, which mercifully failed to reach the water, but nevertheless hung at a drunken angle for all the family members to contemplate as we sailed off with their precious cargo!
The first day at sea: It was fascinating to view the harbour traffic, and all the buildings, wind generators, piles of raw resources (coal, oil, etc.) which cluttered the docks. It was a cool, bright, breezy morning (10:30 AM or so). The ship came around the headlands and the seas really picked up. Interestingly, there were few seagulls - probably they are smart enough to be resting their wings on shore in such circumstances. Had they been in the area, however, they would have been well fed. The 'rails' and the 'heads' were popular spots for the next few hours. Jan (pronounced 'Yawn'), our German cook, did not
help matters, by coming up with a heavily spiced chicken stir fry as his lunch offering. Having felt reasonably well to this point, and possessed of an appetite of large proportions, I visited the mess - and then immediately paid my respects to the head. A short nap followed, and I have felt fine ever since.
The days leading up to St Petersburg: The second and third days out were characterized by fair weather - PEI ferry crossing seas. The instructors were all busy with our courses, while balancing other responsibilities. We teach while at sea, do field trips while in port.
We have a clothes washer reserved for staff only, so I busied myself early one sunny morning catching up on laundry. There is no dryer - one hangs the more sensitive items in one?s room, the others on the ropes (no shortage of these on a sailing ship although they are called lines) on deck. It was amusing to look out the windows of my classroom, seeing the big container ships and freighters going by, partially screened by my socks and tee shirts blowing in the breeze. To add "exposure" to my clothing repertoire the captain chose this time to stage a "man overboard" drill, an exercise that sees a buoy thrown overboard by a crew member, an alarm sounded, and a set of rescue procedures implemented, including a zodiac launch and recovery.
All this happened in the general vicinity of my washing, an added challenge for the watch (wash?) lookouts.
The professional crew has set watches. For example, Lauren, the first mate (a South African) is on the bridge 4 PM - 8 PM and 4 AM - 8 AM. I have been getting up and on deck for the fitness group each morning at 7 and generally am early which affords a good look around, and a chat with Lauren. The bridge navigation equipment is impressive. The large screen presents an entire map of the area, with all the ship traffic marked in. This morning (September 6th) I listened to an Estonian captain asking for the harbour pilot (we were 25 nautical miles east of Estonia, heading for the Bay of Finland) and a Russian vessel whose mutterings Lauren was not able to fathom (note the use of nautical terms). Out progress has been good - favourable, strong winds - so we have been getting by on sail power for the most part. In fact, we don't have all our sails up because we only have permission to arrive in St. Petersburg on Saturday evening - the way we're going we'd arrive tomorrow.
Breakfast is at 7:30 AM each day, followed by colours at 8. The latter involves raising the flag, roll call by watch groups and general announcements.
We are now above the 60 parallel - the sun was up at 4:45 AM this morning (Friday, September 7th) and I rolled out at 6:00 or so. Lauren showed me our position on the screen - there are two small islands off the starboard bow (Estonia), navigation lights on the port side some distance away (Finland), and an indistinct blur on the "12 o'clock" horizon - Russia.
I'm the banker for the students - when they came aboard they surrendered any cash in their possession to me for safekeeping. I have the combination for the ship's safe. Yesterday one of the papers to be filled out for Russian customs was an itemization of on board electronics, and currency. My records show $21,000 US, 5,400 euros, and a long list of smaller amounts of other currencies!
Desserts are not part of the regular lunch and dinner fare so last night the recently formed baking club tried their hand at brownies. Everyone got one, they were not large, but what a treat.
After colours each morning the various student watch groups go to their appointed cleaning stations. Each of us is responsible for our own rooms. It was my cabin mate Richard's turn today. It doesn't take long - I?d estimate our cabin-s floor space (counting the head) to be 36 square feet.
It is Saturday morning, September 8th. I was up very early once more (our clocks go ahead another two hours today - plus 7 from the Atlantic zone). It is another beautiful day - sunny with calm seas. The weather, as characterized by the experienced professional crew, has been very favourable for the whole Baltic run from Copenhagen. I heard the anchor chains go out (my cabin is near the bow) at 2:00 AM. We are in a holding area until later today (one can see land in the distance off our port side), as our arrival (as formalized by our Russian visas) is not official until today midnight. However, a St Petersburg harbour pilot will come on board this afternoon to guide us in, and we will clear customs. There are a number of other ships moored in this area - all container carriers and freighters.
So it is another teaching day (Saturday or not) - tomorrow we begin our four or five day St Petersburg experience in earnest.
"Back in the USSR": We're here, it is a cool, sunny morning (September 9th), and at this hour (6:00 AM ship's time, two hours later on shore) I have the ship to myself, except for those on watch, and the calico cat which adopted the Concordia after customs clearance! The pilot came aboard last evening and guided us in to St Petersburg harbour. We arrived officially at 12:01 AM. I had turned in by that time. A "PA", all hands on deck, announcement had us mustered quickly enough. We had to line up alphabetically on deck, teachers in the lead, then walk down the hastily reassembled gangway (my watch group's responsibility remember) to the customs booth. There were four agents on duty. It was like a TV skit really ? two men, two women, ill fitting uniforms, self important looking, no English spoken. I was one of the first through the process; I stood in a sterile looking booth while 'Olga' peered at my passport and, with a flourish, stamped it and handed it back to me. (She had good teeth and bad hair, with a uniform cap that reminded me of the East German take off costuming in 'Top Secret'.)
Today is a free day to wander about. Our in-port formalized activities begin tomorrow. Several of us are hoping to get to a Greek Orthodox church just to experience the feeling, and it is Sunday morning. (I hope to be sending this missive via an e-mail attachment later, once we have found a venue. The time difference with home is now seven hours I think.)
Sunday evening, September 9th: Today we were free to roam the city on foot and most of us took full advantage of the opportunity. I must have walked 10 kms. Each venture forth from the ship (and return) has us pass through the customs hall on the canal here. My passport was studied intently (it is an officious country it seems) but without incident. The Sunday morning streets and sidewalks were filled with shoppers, worshipers, tourists, (lay-a-bouts), and litter. My impression was of a city of remarkable beauty let go to waste, and being brought back to glory, slowly. Tomorrow through to Wednesday we will have organized 'field trips' with a guide, so I'll be able to give a fuller report at another time.
OK, I admit it, instead of sampling the indigenous cuisine at lunch time - borsch soup or vodka shots, for instance - I had a Big Mac witfries and a soft drink, and a chocolate bar for dessert! Then I bought some apples and oranges to take back to the ship to ward off scurvy - there were no limes on offer.
Here is another first impression: the Russians finish a distant second to the Danes in personal beauty, fitness, and style. But they out smoke them, and outweigh them, have dental work that would strain any airport security device, and look like they are 'running hard' just to make it through another day. Their 'showcase' city is on the shabby side, their vehicle emissions are out of control (25 year old Ladas still on the road (along with new Lexuses incidentally), and "low life" rule after dark - we have restricted curfews on the students and travel is in groups of four (with at least one male).
September 3 - September 8
Copenhagen departure: Parents and other family members (still in the area) were invited to a modest send off 'coffee hour' on board which concluded 15 minutes prior to departure. My watch group (all on-board instructors have six or seven students for whom they take general oversight responsibility - their watch dog) was responsible for removing the gangway after the guests had departed to wave their teary farewells from the shore. We, of course, had never done this before, and while a simple exercise, it needed to be done seamlessly. The banners on the sides and the heavy netting below were taken away first, then the aluminum poles and ropes from the sides of the gangway, and finally the hoist was connected to what remained (the "plank?" as in gang plank, I suppose). A member of the professional crew performed this last duty (the boson's mate, Josh, a Bermudian) and my watch group guided the free swinging load to its assigned resting place. Whew, and as Dora would say, "We did it!"
Alas, not all was to be, well, "smooth sailing". The captain cannot see the stern of the ship from the bridge where he is located. He depends upon lookouts to be his eyes. The lookouts are generally students with one "pro crew" member. The students will be trained, but this was their first five minutes at sea. At the stern, raised up on a supporting framework and extending beyond the ship proper by a couple of feet, is one of the two ship tenders (the other is at mid-ships on the roof of the mess), a zodiac, ready to go. As the captain maneuvered the Concordia away from her berth next to the pier, he had to turn the ship completely around, in order to head toward the harbour entrance. Forward and aft of us were two other ships. (It was
a bit like being tightly parallel parked and pulling out while making a U-turn, with cars parked on the other side of the street. Oh, and having a filled bicycle rack on back.) In our maneuver, the ship's rear tender grazed a pier abutment, partially releasing the zodiac, which mercifully failed to reach the water, but nevertheless hung at a drunken angle for all the family members to contemplate as we sailed off with their precious cargo!
The first day at sea: It was fascinating to view the harbour traffic, and all the buildings, wind generators, piles of raw resources (coal, oil, etc.) which cluttered the docks. It was a cool, bright, breezy morning (10:30 AM or so). The ship came around the headlands and the seas really picked up. Interestingly, there were few seagulls - probably they are smart enough to be resting their wings on shore in such circumstances. Had they been in the area, however, they would have been well fed. The 'rails' and the 'heads' were popular spots for the next few hours. Jan (pronounced 'Yawn'), our German cook, did not
help matters, by coming up with a heavily spiced chicken stir fry as his lunch offering. Having felt reasonably well to this point, and possessed of an appetite of large proportions, I visited the mess - and then immediately paid my respects to the head. A short nap followed, and I have felt fine ever since.
The days leading up to St Petersburg: The second and third days out were characterized by fair weather - PEI ferry crossing seas. The instructors were all busy with our courses, while balancing other responsibilities. We teach while at sea, do field trips while in port.
We have a clothes washer reserved for staff only, so I busied myself early one sunny morning catching up on laundry. There is no dryer - one hangs the more sensitive items in one?s room, the others on the ropes (no shortage of these on a sailing ship although they are called lines) on deck. It was amusing to look out the windows of my classroom, seeing the big container ships and freighters going by, partially screened by my socks and tee shirts blowing in the breeze. To add "exposure" to my clothing repertoire the captain chose this time to stage a "man overboard" drill, an exercise that sees a buoy thrown overboard by a crew member, an alarm sounded, and a set of rescue procedures implemented, including a zodiac launch and recovery.
All this happened in the general vicinity of my washing, an added challenge for the watch (wash?) lookouts.
The professional crew has set watches. For example, Lauren, the first mate (a South African) is on the bridge 4 PM - 8 PM and 4 AM - 8 AM. I have been getting up and on deck for the fitness group each morning at 7 and generally am early which affords a good look around, and a chat with Lauren. The bridge navigation equipment is impressive. The large screen presents an entire map of the area, with all the ship traffic marked in. This morning (September 6th) I listened to an Estonian captain asking for the harbour pilot (we were 25 nautical miles east of Estonia, heading for the Bay of Finland) and a Russian vessel whose mutterings Lauren was not able to fathom (note the use of nautical terms). Out progress has been good - favourable, strong winds - so we have been getting by on sail power for the most part. In fact, we don't have all our sails up because we only have permission to arrive in St. Petersburg on Saturday evening - the way we're going we'd arrive tomorrow.
Breakfast is at 7:30 AM each day, followed by colours at 8. The latter involves raising the flag, roll call by watch groups and general announcements.
We are now above the 60 parallel - the sun was up at 4:45 AM this morning (Friday, September 7th) and I rolled out at 6:00 or so. Lauren showed me our position on the screen - there are two small islands off the starboard bow (Estonia), navigation lights on the port side some distance away (Finland), and an indistinct blur on the "12 o'clock" horizon - Russia.
I'm the banker for the students - when they came aboard they surrendered any cash in their possession to me for safekeeping. I have the combination for the ship's safe. Yesterday one of the papers to be filled out for Russian customs was an itemization of on board electronics, and currency. My records show $21,000 US, 5,400 euros, and a long list of smaller amounts of other currencies!
Desserts are not part of the regular lunch and dinner fare so last night the recently formed baking club tried their hand at brownies. Everyone got one, they were not large, but what a treat.
After colours each morning the various student watch groups go to their appointed cleaning stations. Each of us is responsible for our own rooms. It was my cabin mate Richard's turn today. It doesn't take long - I?d estimate our cabin-s floor space (counting the head) to be 36 square feet.
It is Saturday morning, September 8th. I was up very early once more (our clocks go ahead another two hours today - plus 7 from the Atlantic zone). It is another beautiful day - sunny with calm seas. The weather, as characterized by the experienced professional crew, has been very favourable for the whole Baltic run from Copenhagen. I heard the anchor chains go out (my cabin is near the bow) at 2:00 AM. We are in a holding area until later today (one can see land in the distance off our port side), as our arrival (as formalized by our Russian visas) is not official until today midnight. However, a St Petersburg harbour pilot will come on board this afternoon to guide us in, and we will clear customs. There are a number of other ships moored in this area - all container carriers and freighters.
So it is another teaching day (Saturday or not) - tomorrow we begin our four or five day St Petersburg experience in earnest.
"Back in the USSR": We're here, it is a cool, sunny morning (September 9th), and at this hour (6:00 AM ship's time, two hours later on shore) I have the ship to myself, except for those on watch, and the calico cat which adopted the Concordia after customs clearance! The pilot came aboard last evening and guided us in to St Petersburg harbour. We arrived officially at 12:01 AM. I had turned in by that time. A "PA", all hands on deck, announcement had us mustered quickly enough. We had to line up alphabetically on deck, teachers in the lead, then walk down the hastily reassembled gangway (my watch group's responsibility remember) to the customs booth. There were four agents on duty. It was like a TV skit really ? two men, two women, ill fitting uniforms, self important looking, no English spoken. I was one of the first through the process; I stood in a sterile looking booth while 'Olga' peered at my passport and, with a flourish, stamped it and handed it back to me. (She had good teeth and bad hair, with a uniform cap that reminded me of the East German take off costuming in 'Top Secret'.)
Today is a free day to wander about. Our in-port formalized activities begin tomorrow. Several of us are hoping to get to a Greek Orthodox church just to experience the feeling, and it is Sunday morning. (I hope to be sending this missive via an e-mail attachment later, once we have found a venue. The time difference with home is now seven hours I think.)
Sunday evening, September 9th: Today we were free to roam the city on foot and most of us took full advantage of the opportunity. I must have walked 10 kms. Each venture forth from the ship (and return) has us pass through the customs hall on the canal here. My passport was studied intently (it is an officious country it seems) but without incident. The Sunday morning streets and sidewalks were filled with shoppers, worshipers, tourists, (lay-a-bouts), and litter. My impression was of a city of remarkable beauty let go to waste, and being brought back to glory, slowly. Tomorrow through to Wednesday we will have organized 'field trips' with a guide, so I'll be able to give a fuller report at another time.
OK, I admit it, instead of sampling the indigenous cuisine at lunch time - borsch soup or vodka shots, for instance - I had a Big Mac witfries and a soft drink, and a chocolate bar for dessert! Then I bought some apples and oranges to take back to the ship to ward off scurvy - there were no limes on offer.
Here is another first impression: the Russians finish a distant second to the Danes in personal beauty, fitness, and style. But they out smoke them, and outweigh them, have dental work that would strain any airport security device, and look like they are 'running hard' just to make it through another day. Their 'showcase' city is on the shabby side, their vehicle emissions are out of control (25 year old Ladas still on the road (along with new Lexuses incidentally), and "low life" rule after dark - we have restricted curfews on the students and travel is in groups of four (with at least one male).
Monday, September 3, 2007
The drummer of Metallica
is from Copenhagen. Which is where Dad, along with the rest of the Concordia gang, shacked up for five days to literally learn the ropes of ship life.
First impressions included "clean", "lots of English spoken" and "bicycles everywhere". The five hour time difference proved to be a bit of a challenge, especially after a lengthy flight with very little sleep, and cramped quarters. The happy coincidence of a roommate with a hearing aid suits Dad's snoring, though.
Survival-at-sea suits, safety procedures and gaining familiarity with on-board routine was the order of the first day, as well as hunting down an internet cafe.
Excerpt from recent email below:
We will have another session on Sunday (with the GAP students arriving tomorrow and me playing banker again). I have the names of the professional crew/teachers/grade 12s pretty well mastered - just in time for the next (and final) wave of new arrivals! The cook is pleasant (his name is pronounced 'yawn' - German) and the food is plain but satisfactory. On the ship it is as if we are in our own special world - one could feel really cut off by times I should think, although it has been too busy to get a chance to have this sensation take hold just yet. I'm at an internet cafe again at the moment, with about 100 e-mailstations, and another 50 game stations, all being frequented by males- crazy really. I have been taking part in all the orientation activities -icebreaker games, etc. In an on board (it was raining) scavenger hunt this morning one of the questions was 'Find out the names of the two Tuglets' :)
-JT (who is hoping her dad stays in harness anytime he's on deck!)
First impressions included "clean", "lots of English spoken" and "bicycles everywhere". The five hour time difference proved to be a bit of a challenge, especially after a lengthy flight with very little sleep, and cramped quarters. The happy coincidence of a roommate with a hearing aid suits Dad's snoring, though.
Survival-at-sea suits, safety procedures and gaining familiarity with on-board routine was the order of the first day, as well as hunting down an internet cafe.
Excerpt from recent email below:
I'm off the ship - 8:30 PM - for a little while. It was another busyday. The weather was cloudy with a few showers, but not cold. I got out for a walk before breakfast - it is facinating to see the ordinary people going to work/school/daycare on their bikes. We sure have a lot to learn in our cities! The ship is actually berthed in a canal veryclose to the downtown, so one can be in the center of things very quickly (given the chance). This afternoon I (along with the grade 12 students (17) had our first sail training. It was a thrilling experience over all - complicated by times though. We had a simple chin-up test to be permitted to go aloft. In my group of 10 (including teachers) only 4 of us made the grade, and up I went to the second yardarm, in harness - great view -and did some sail folding and unfolding, pulling of ropes, etc.
We will have another session on Sunday (with the GAP students arriving tomorrow and me playing banker again). I have the names of the professional crew/teachers/grade 12s pretty well mastered - just in time for the next (and final) wave of new arrivals! The cook is pleasant (his name is pronounced 'yawn' - German) and the food is plain but satisfactory. On the ship it is as if we are in our own special world - one could feel really cut off by times I should think, although it has been too busy to get a chance to have this sensation take hold just yet. I'm at an internet cafe again at the moment, with about 100 e-mailstations, and another 50 game stations, all being frequented by males- crazy really. I have been taking part in all the orientation activities -icebreaker games, etc. In an on board (it was raining) scavenger hunt this morning one of the questions was 'Find out the names of the two Tuglets' :)
-JT (who is hoping her dad stays in harness anytime he's on deck!)
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