Fishing at night

We are in the coast of Ivory Coast. The crew were fishing tonight. Word is that they caught squid worth almost 40 kgs. I know what’s for lunch tomorrow.

Blue Whale!

I saw a Blue Whale today. The whale was rising out of the water lifting its tail flukes and I also saw it blow through the blowhole!

If my phone had had a zoom lens camera, I would have also clicked a picture like this:

Pongalo Pongal!

The steward and I discussed making Pongal the whole of last week, only to find out we do not have pacharisi (raw rice) on board. The Basmati rice apparently won’t work as well as pacharisi, according to the experts (read mother and mother-in-law) back at home. So we gave up on the idea.

I wore a saree today and everybody finally seemed to acknowledge a woman’s presence in the ship. It was also the last of the gifts from my sister-in-law for the wedding. I finally feel married and settled now.

Tomorrow is the captain’s birthday. So in celebration of that and Pongal, we had a barbeque party today. Barbeque party for Pongal, howzzat?? 

We vegetarians were stuck with nothing to eat as usual, except for paneer(cottage cheese), capsicum and jagged potatoes, but the conversations made up for the lack of food. The Sri Lankan Bhatti saab(electrical engineer) and I had serious discussions about LTTE and the prevalent situation in Sri Lanka. The chief engineer was talking about the “history of Shahrukh Khan” to whoever listened. Some people were busy barbequing food for themselves and the others. A few just lounged with a drink in hand enjoying the breeze. When the booze got into their heads, everyone started dancing to item numbers.

I’m starting to think that these parties in the ship follow a pattern. Or maybe it’s true for all parties involving just a bunch of young to middle-aged men.

PS: We have almost reached the coast of Ivory Coast. Yay!

Teen Pathi

When you have no Internet to distract you, you have to pass time the way our forefathers did it; by socializing. In an otherwise mundane routine of the long voyage, Teen Pathi is providing all the excitement the relief. Post dinner, 7 pm to 9 pm has been Teen Pathi time for the last fortnight. When the captain saw the lack of enthusiasm among the crew in playing carom, he decided to change the game to include all and sundry, and ended up with this card game.

 Teen Pathi(three cards in Hindi) is often referred to as the Indian Poker, although apparently it is almost identical to 3 Card brag played in Britain. The rules of the game are clearly given in this link - http://www.pagat.com/vying/teen_pathi.html.

So if you need some gyaan on the game itself, you know where to go.

Team mates!

Apart from being a fun way to spend two hours everyday, this game has also brought us all closer. We are all joking and poking fun at each other, pretending to cheat during the game, being superstitious about our seats and bringing lucky charms to the table.

Paper notes(print outs of currency notes) for INR 500 are given out in exchange of actual INR 100 and play begins. Our team consists of captain, my husband the second officer, third engineer, yours truly and chief officer/third officer. 7-8 pm the third officer joins us and at 8 pm, the chief officer joins us handing over his watch to the third officer. Work is also important see.

We are currently on a winning streak. But you never know with gambling!

Happy New Year!!

We welcomed the New Year in the middle of nowhere. A bunch of people who did not know of each other’s existence a few months ago, came together to usher in the New Year with a lot of pomp and splendour.

We had a costume party today. It was quite the challenge because we could not have Google sensei’s help for anything. Cheena decided to be Wolverine, and he had my complete approval and aasheervad. I’ve always wanted to see him don the Wolverine look. I was going back and forth from cheerleader to school girl for my look, but I finally settled down on catwoman – I had all black clothing and all we had to do was a mask.

We sat down to work on his look with used cartons, gum, paper cutter and aluminium foils piled up on the chart table at the bridge. In half an hour, Wolverine had his Adamantium claws. We fixed those claws into a cardboard holder that Cheena ingeniously thought of so he could hold the claws properly. I decided to add a cigar and wrapped a crushed origami paper onto rolled cardboard. Perfect. Next, we just had to do the beard and the hairstyle. Borrowed hair gel and blow dry took care of the horns in the hair. I used my kajal and marked the portions that he had to shave off from his face to get the look. When he shaved and worn his brown leather jacket, I squealed. He could have played Hugh Jackman’s dupe in the X-men movies.

My catwoman look was a different story altogether. We hardly had any time left and the mask that Anne Hathway wore in the movie was too high level. Cheena quickly cut out a mask and we hurriedly painted it with a permanent marker. Attaching the strings to it was a pain and we had to staple the thread to the mask. Well, I at least had bright red lipstick and black leather gloves, so I guess I scored a pass mark. 

-->

I then helped the chief officer with his look and went around the ship asking everybody who they were dressing up as. The chief officer’s costume was a gunny bag sewed together with slits for the arms, a bandana which had hair made out of ropes and a sword made out of some spare part from the wardrobe covered with an aluminium foil. We even made an eye patch.

We had two pirates (one was called captain “black sparrow”), an old beggar, a fraud godman, a guy holidaying in Goa, a pandit, Sai Baba, cadet Ghajini, a mummy, a fisherman…. It was amazing to see people’s creativity. This was REAL creativity without internet’s help so it was all the more special. We all had a good time laughing at each other’s look and clicking pictures.

We had a vote for the winners – the only guy who participated from the engineering department won the 1^st place. I don't even remember what he was dressed up as; he hurriedly put on some random cigarette packets over some brown sheets and had some no smoking message written on it I think. The great Indian voting pattern worked here too – hamaara bandha hai, gaon wale gaon wale and all that. You vote because you like the person/you work under the person/you and the person share a common language, caste, job etc. All in the spirit of the game! Anyway, that apart, Wolverine came 3^rd. He won $15 as prize. Which obviously belongs to me.

The countdown to the New Year happened at the bridge. I was playing the DJ juggling Hindi and Tamil numbers, and our iPod died exactly 2 minutes before 12. We all ran up to the bridge and cut the second cake that was bought in Thailand. You could hear fully drunken cries of “Happy New Year” and hugs all over. I went over to the bridge wings. A mild breeze was blowing and the moon was shining down in the direction of the ship. Everywhere else was pitch dark, but the water sparkled where the moon shone. It was quite a sight.

It is a new dawn. It is a new day. It is a new year. And it was a wonderfully new experience.

Ho ho ho!! Merry Christmas, everyone!

This was the most memorable Christmas for me, second only to the Christmas in Foxen Street when I got a Christmas gift from Santa who was riding his cart without the reindeers. Foxen Street in Perambur used to be a hub of Anglo Indians. One of the largest Anglo-Indian concentrations in the country, Perambur has a church that is over a 100 years old, built during the British era when a lot of the Englishmen stayed in Perambur, close to the Integral Coach Factory. When my Anglo-Indian neighbor Zeena Antony decided to thank my mom for her wonderful rasam, she made Santa give me a gift when he paraded the streets of the Anglo-Indian population. This happened when I was 10 years old.

Preparation for the party, in the bridge

And today, I was celebrating Christmas in the unlikeliest of all places – in the middle of somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Our Captain Cool was fully excited about Christmas and spent the last few days thinking of games for the party. The crew was split into three teams, captained by the youngest in the lot and as expected, Cheena and I ended up in the same team. We were pretty much winning every game that included a variation of darts, pin-the-tail-on-the-cow, bowling with mineral water bottles for pins and a football for the ball and the like. It was great fun and the hoots and shouts would have scared the whales in the ocean I am sure. The only useful thing I did was to put up the scores. The captain looked cutely upset when the others were winning at the games that he had thought of. The chief engineer, called “bada saab” in Indian sailors’ lingo, was the butt of all jokes. But since he is a personality that deserves a separate post, I shall say no more here.

 With the crew, the captain is missing though

The party started scattering post lunch, with people wandering back to their cabins or huddling with just their buddies for a game of carrom or a session of adult jokes. The food had a lot of meat, with the x-mas turkey being the centre of attention. We poor vegetarians hardly had anything to eat and had to make-do with the snacks and the very bland half-hearted peas pulav. The cake was a disappointment too – it was bought in Thailand sometime in November and stored in the deep freezer so it tasted a little weird.

I sneaked out late afternoon to use the laundry room that was empty. No waiting for my turn today. Yay. The officer’s laundry consists of two washing machines and two dryers – one for boiler suits and one for civil clothes. The civil clothes machine and dryer are almost always full whenever I go down to wash.

Paavam X-mas turkey

We went down for dinner around 8 only to find out that we just had the leftovers from afternoon. The peas pulav had gone stale and we had nothing to eat. We went back to watch LOTR, but when Cheena started scowling every five seconds, and I heard my stomach grumble as well, we realized hunger ache achon ko badal deta hai and went down to rummage the mess room to find something to eat. I had two slices of bread and he had some leftover salad lying in the fridge. We both had a glass of milk each and our stomachs yelped happily. Oh, the joy of giving!

Happy Birthday, Jesus! We had a good, fun day today, thanks to you.

Beer with the Chief

The Chief Officer invited us over to his cabin today for a drink. We were both in the mood to watch a movie, but you don't refuse an invitation from a superior, so we obliged.

The Chief officer is in his late 20’s, married to his high school sweet heart and after his marriage, his wife had always accompanied him on all his contracts, but for this one. He had just gotten promoted from 2^nd officer, so Cheena and him were already buddies. Very amicable and very gentlemanly, he proved my hypothesis of “Bengali men are gallant gentlemen” right once again.  Not that I know many Bengali men, but the ones I have met have always been very courteous.

He mentioned he never liked drinking alone and he had a can of coconut water for me to drink (did I mention courteous?). Among cans of beers, the men had a long chat about work interspersed with explanations for me.

We were scheduled to watch Lord of the Rings that night, but we spent the night talking instead. Sometimes, even Lords have to wait.

Equator Crossing

After the Laxman Rekha, this is probably the next biggest line that is a big deal to cross – The Equator. Equator crossing ceremony is an exciting event in an otherwise mundane sea life. First-timers crossing the equator are like first year students in college who get ragged royally by their seniors. But there are no bodies to govern the level of ragging here(except the captain’s discretion of course)

so the equator crossing is vera level.

Two members of the crew dressed as King Neptune and his Queen are the hosts of the ceremony. The first-timers are undressed and made to stand in their underwear, they get fake boobs attached to them and they are smeared with paint, grease and what not! Other members of the crew then give them various commands. The sportive ones have fun; the timid ones pray for it to get over as soon as possible. Somebody made a mention of a faint-hearted Kerala boy who threatened to jump into the sea if they didn't stop.

Faces are hidden to save the men from total puppy shame

The Punch is an important constituent of the ceremony. It is a drink that is a deadly mixture of egg, mayonnaise, salt, sugar, soy sauce, fruit juice, some liquor, tomato ketchup and anything else that the cook fancies. The first-timers, who are mostly cadets and junior engineers, have to drink this Punch bottoms-up.

This ceremony happens every time they cross the equator in their contract period and at the end, they get an Equator Crossing Certificate releasing them from the going through the same ordeal in their next ship. Cursed are those who fail to obtain this certificate, because if you don't have a certificate, you are condemned to be a part of this event even if you have crossed the equator before.

Thankfully, supernumeraries have the privilege to be exempted from this event. Amen to that.

Treading on the waters

The scenery from my window changes everyday; yet it remains the same. Two days ago, I could see rain clouds and the sea reaching out to the sky with its swells. Today, the sky is a pale blue and the clouds are a fluffy white and the sea is calm. I see the sky and the sea out of my window porthole everyday. I see only the sky and the sea.

Almost a week since I came here. Everyday has been pretty much the same – breakfast, reading, lunch, studying, dinner, movie and sleep. Cheena likes to have a routine. He loves following routines. I like schedules, but hate routines. I have a study schedule – a target to complete everyday, but even that doesn't follow a routine. Routines are mind numbing. Routines are tedious.

The ship is called Sakura Glory. Made in Japan, of course. I am having fun trying to read the signs and instructions that are in Japanese. I get frustrated at not being able to read half of them. I get elated when I can read even one new kanji because that is proof that my schedule is effective.

When the rain clouds gathered

When it rained

Being an officer at a ship has various advantages. But the best advantage is probably the lesser contract period.  The crew has a contract period of 9 months; invariably it is ten months when they sign off. So if your left a pregnant wife home, you would possibly come back to see a baby that is already trying to crawl, and looking at you curiously trying to figure out who the new celebrated stranger is.

I am getting to know my fellow travellers. It is always amusing to read people. It is even more amusing reading these sailors, who have been here for many months already. A youth from a small seaside town in Tamilnadu, who joined here as a steward because all his other catering school friends were doing so. A young lad from a town in Maharashtra who chose to sail because that's what half his family did. A boy from Jallandar who had never stepped foot out of Punjab before he decided to become a sailor. A veteran who has been sailing for over thirty years now so much so that he seems completely consumed by water, inside and outside. All of them try to be as amicable as possible to each other, and to me, but everybody is well aware that these friendships, like friendships on the train, come with an expiry date. Nevertheless, the conversations keep me going. They always seem to have interesting stories. Stories that only a sailor could have.

The churned light blue water and the life boat

Did you know that poisonous scorpions are a delicacy in Thailand? Did you know that Japanese cab drivers could be so rude that they leave out people who don't turn up on time? Did you know that in China, snakes are stored in jars containing preservatives to be used as pickles later? Did you know that Atlantic Ocean is more aggressive than the Indian Ocean? Did you know that the churning out of water by ships change the colour of the water that gets churned?

Katradhu kai man alavu. Kalladadhu ulagu alavu.

The Waters Beckon

I am leaving home today to join my husband in the seas. My husband is a seafarer, and a bloody good one at that if I may say so myself. And I am joining him in the seas. Enthusiastic and noisy, mysterious and silent, angry and roaring, violent and furious – the sea has many shapes. “as old as the seas” goes the phrase. It is used to denote someone who is really so old that you can’t really guess how old they are. But how old are the seas really? How many centuries worth of stories do those waters contain? What are the secrets that lie beneath those waters? I don’t know if I will find answers to these questions. Nevertheless, the waters beckoned and I was all set to go.

It was hard to say bye to the kids

It was a pretty long farewell. In a joint family of almost 30 people, farewells tend to be huge affairs. Prostrating in every elder’s feet, going room-by-room to say bye-bye, avoiding controversies by calling all and sundry, saying good-bye here is actually harder than leaving, pun intended. Thankfully, only the parents and in-laws came over to the airport. My mother is what my husband calls a drama queen. He thinks I have inherited that quality from her. But I thought she tried her best. Tears did not fall from her face until the very last moment. I am so proud of her. My in-laws put on a brave face and tried to cheer me up. My dad was half-laughing with lines creasing his forehead. It would be months before I saw these wonderful people again. I was pretty jittery myself. Farewells are ok. They remind you of who is important in your life. But what I am not used to is, travelling without a visa with just a handful of paperwork. Maybe this is how Cheena felt the first time he joined the ship as a cadet.  On second thoughts, he probably felt worse. He was only 18 then.

I was due to join the ship in Singapore. Pretty convenient, since it is only about 4 hours away from Chennai. The paperwork I had consisted of my ticket, “OK TO BOARD” certificate from the ship’s agents in Singapore, Immigration & Checkpoints Authority certificate and a guarantee letter from the company stating that they will take care of me come what may (how reassuring). I showed the OK TO BOARD and the guarantee letters to the authorities in India. They asked me if I was a seaman (you know, it should have been seawoman or something) and asked to see my CDC, which is something like a passport for seafarers. Oh no sir, didn’t you see that it says “supernumerary” on my letters? Do I have the build of somebody who looks like they could work on a ship? Hell, I never even played with a toy ship. No, it is my husband who is a seaman. I wish I could’ve said all that. But all I said was “no I am joining my husband who is a seaman” and added a smile for extra measure. I successfully boarded the flight, which was delayed by 1.5 hours, and got seated next to a guy who had a picture of a uniformed schoolgirl as his cellphone wallpaper, presumably his daughter. He ordered two large whiskies, got drunk and tried to make small talk with me. I was clearly in no mood for drunken babble and I was responding in one syllables. After multiple attempts at catching my attention, he said, “are you married?” and when I said yes, he never tried to talk to me again. Oh, the morals of a Tamilian drunken man!

I reached the best airport in the world and was oddly comforted looking at signs in Tamil AND Japanese. I waited at the immigration queue for ten minutes and at the counter, I was directed to another counter. Oops. I told the stern-math-teacher-like employee that I was going to join a ship. I was asked to be seated and wait. Time for free wifi! I reached Singapore folks! Hey Facebook, here is the mandatory check-in. Hey whatsapp, how you doing buddy?

I had to wait for almost 20 minutes before Ms. Math teacher beckoned to me and opened a side door. I felt like royalty walking through those private doors when everybody else was standing in a queue.

The driver held an iPad with my name on the screen. After exchanging courtesies and looking at my passport, he drove me through the roads of Singapore which made me cringe – Why are these roads SO clean?! Somebody mentioned that the PM of Singapore started a Clean Singapore mission in the 60’s. I wonder if the Swachh Bharat Mission would have similar results. The odds are pretty off, considering the population, but hey! we are trying.  We reached the boat jetty after about half an hour, and Mr. driver left me with another guy who was wearing a red t-shirt, blue shorts and a paunch. Another ten minutes where Mr. Paunch kept talking on the phone and disappearing, another guy with black t-shirt and brown shorts appeared. Mr. Paunch gave me some document with a boat number scribbled on it and asked me to board that boat.  I was taken to another gate by Mr. Brown shorts to meet the immigration officer. He carefully looked at my papers and nodded once. So I can go? Yay. I sprinted (as fast as I can with my 31.2 kg luggage) and waited with a few other people for the boat. The boatman called out “Sakura Glory!” and I went half-running dragging my luggage. The luggage got loaded and I was making the last leg of my long trip to meet my man.

As we were leaving

After a while

Leaving the land for good!

The boat was fast leaving the shore. The huge picture-postcard buildings were fast becoming just lights. There was a pleasant breeze and the chillness felt like a hug. I could not sit for all my nervousness was finally replaced by excitement. I just stood there enjoying the breeze and looking at all the huge ships, eagerly anticipating which one was “Sakura Glory”. And then, I saw him. Dressed in his uniform, waving out to me. I am sure I have never smiled so wide all my life. I wish he could’ve seen it. The boat stopped close to the ship, the gangway was opened and I climbed up the stairs. Here I am, “supernumerary” of Sakura Glory, which according to the dictionary means, “a person serving no apparent function”.  I will not be superfluous though; I am going to make myself useful. 絶対に！