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.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
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!)
Bon Voyage and pass me some cake...
August 27th 2007
The last block of Tugwell Time was spent by the sea (because obviously Dad wouldn't be getting nearly enough of that anytime soon) in a lovely cottage near Hirtle's Beach. Ma, Papa, Steve, Barna, the two Tuglets and I settled in for a lovely weekend just outside Lunenburg. Papa Tug had school every day but a rise and shine time of about six a.m. (thank you, foghorn, for the wake up call) enabled some togetherness before he headed off for the day. The rest of us enjoyed walks on the beach, collecting pretty stones and dodging the waves - not always successfully!
While dad learned the finer points of ship living and what would be expected of the teachers and crew, we took the ferry to LaHave and dined on pizza and lemonade. We did manage to save some of the fun for the evenings, having delicious BBQs and a yummy cake with a message on it wishing papa a good trip. This was accompanied by a rousing five verses of "Happy Birthday" from Maya, because when you are almost three, what else could a cake possibly mean?
The afternoon of the 27th, Departure Day, was spent on Inglis Street. Barbecue, beer and a gorgeous work of art (see picture) by artist-in-residence Maya Tugwell and her delightful aunt (yes, me), ensured Papa Tug had a great sendoff. Ma and I took him to the airport and after several reminders to please not fall off the ship, let him board the plane. The next four months will fly by...won't they?
-JT
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