|
Another day comes
to an end
By Kenneth, logistics. 9 April. We've been sailing now
for a couple of days and still have a couple days of transit
left before we reach our next destination. The weather's
been …uh…variable. I'm looking forward to a good
night's sleep.
Bucking Warrior
By Lesley, assistant cook. 9 April. Well folks, this is
the meanest horse I've ever been on! The Warrior is charging
through the Atlantic like crazy and we are hitting the waves
head on. That means that we nose dive and tail up every
five seconds. Sometimes it feels like we will never get
our nose out of the water and sometimes like our tail will
never come out of the sky.
Home
By Chris, deckhand. 8 April. Sometimes it's hard to work
out where home is. Last time I checked it was South Sinai,
Egypt (I've got the photos in my cabin to prove it) where
I live with my girlfriend Ambika and
our two cats, Gem and Scout.
The perfect storm
By Rodrigo, deckhand. 3 April. Well, here we are, after
a quick weekend where almost all the crew of the Rainbow
Warrior had some time to get off the ship and walk for more
than ten meters in a straight line.
I hate ropes
By Lesley, assistant cook. 1 April. We are docked in Palma.
It's Easter Monday and I had a lovely day off on Easter
Sunday.
Tips for living
on a rolling ship
By Cees, radio operator. 30 March. We are in transit, sailing
from Italy to Palma de Mallorca. It is wind force seven
and the ship is rolling a bit. We are lucky because we are
sailing so we only tilt to one side. And when a ship moves
you have to respect some rules given by nature. One is gravity.
Rhythm of the
night
By Meghan, web editor. 30 March. You've heard from assistant
cook Lesley about how vegetables roll during those 'diagonal'
times on the Warrior. Well, crew roll as well - and much
more elegantly.
Galley slave
By Lesley, assistant cook. 29 March. I've decided to take
time out from the galley, which at the moment is 35 degrees
off horizontal (we are in a Force 7 gale), to tell you what
it's like being a galley slave on a Greenpeace ship.
Post action trauma:
symptoms and cures
By Meghan, web editor. 27 March. It is not found in most
medical textbooks, but you can be certain it exists: post
action trauma (PAT).
The unbearable
lightness of being (warm while your colleagues are chained
to a stern ramp)
By Meghan, web editor. 25 March. I am, in some ways, loathe
to write this update. In order to understand, you must first
be aware that today is Monday. Now you should know that
on Friday, three days ago, the ship's doctor, Janine, made
a phenomenal climb up the stern ramp of the container vessel
Kwanza and has remained there ever since.
Action update:
Salerno, Italy
By Rodrigo, deckhand. 24 March. Bueno esperabamos anclados
a las afueras del puerto de Salerno, la llegada del carguero
Kwanza, responzable de nuestra presencia aqui.
Aquatic evasion
techniques, theory and practice
By Meghan, web editor. 23 March. These things never go
as expected. You can plan for various scenarios to your
heart's content, but when the ship comes in, you're really
just flying by the seat of your pants. So that's my introduction
to yesterday's events on the Rainbow Warrior.
Action update:
Salerno, Italy
By Nikki, logistics/deckhand. 23 March. As I awoke on Friday,
I wandered out slowly onto deck and took in the stunning
coastline. We had gone to anchor just west of Salerno, waiting
for the target ship to come into port (Kwanza).
Diary from a "landcrab"
on a ship in transit
By Irene, guest. 20 March. I am turning into a very colourful
human being. My pale Scandinavian face has turned pink from
the sun, and the activities on board have bruised my legs
so that they now have all the beautiful shades of red, yellow,
black and blue.
Sewing woes on
the Warrior
By Nikki, logistics/deckhand. 19 March. Well, I've been
nagged (well not really nagged as such) to write a crew
diary and tell all of you out there of my adventures and
mishaps upon the Warrior.
Night watch
By Natalia, media officer. 17 March. Here we are again…
on the bridge, with the 'Night Watch Report in the Port'.
This port is extremely 'bello' because we are in Genova,
Italy.
A town of small
spaces
By Meghan, web editor. 16 March. As a resident of the U.S.,
I am accustomed to Things of Large Size - houses, plates
of pasta and parking spaces, to name a few. So perhaps this
is why my blood pressure soared as the Rainbow Warrior entered
the harbour in Genova, Italy.
A(nother) day in
the life of the radio operator
By Cees, radio operator. 14 March. The morning is like
a morning. Download, prepare paperwork for the authorities
in Genova. During lunch Helen was asking who wants to do
the big boat training. I have never driven one of the big
boats on the Rainbow Warrior so I thought this might be
my chance and Helen agreed with it.
Having a swell
time
By Lesley, assistant cook. 13 March. Hi there! Thought
I'd tell you that the Warrior is going through some interesting
sea swells now. They are interesting because with different
swells, different accidents happen. Just now one cup jumped
off the wall. Why only one cup?
From the captain's
quarters
By Pete, skipper. 13 March. Greetings. It was over fast.
Too fast. They had almost caught us napping. It was a beautiful
Sunday afternoon. We had planned a very ambitious afternoon
of photographing the lumber ship and ourselves. This was
all based on the assumption that the Guardia Civil would
not come out to escort the ship in until Monday. We had
reasons for assuming this.... Maybe not quite good enough
reasons.
Rationalising the
surreal
By Chris, logistics. 11 March. Are those moments of surreal
beauty in the maelstrom (and life in general, I guess) destroyed
when someone explains them in rational terms? Probably.
Who was I kiddin?
By Lesley, assistant cook. 10 March. Did I say it was gonna
be a quiet Sunday? Huh. We made it through lunch and a few
hours on deck, sunbathing. I'm sitting in the hold casually
folding my trousers and sorting my socks out when I hear
an alarm. Sounds like the engine alarm. I ignore it. But
it keeps on going.
A nap thwarted
By Meghan, web editor. 10 March. I volunteered for the
4:00 to 8:00am radio room watch, hoping to have the opportunity
to organize my virtual clutter of digital photos. Was I
crazy? In retrospect, I believe so - we had sustained an
action against the logship Meltemi for two days,
and I, like my friends on the ship, was exhausted.
What, nothing to
do?
By Lesley, assistant cook. 10 March. I can't believe it…we
spent yesterday (Saturday) with no false alarms and no actions.
Mind you it was really nice as we had calm weather and sun
and could lounge around on deck between jobs.
Reflexiones a bordo
By Rodrigo, deckhand. 9 March. Es las 02:00 a.m., estoy
cubriendo mi guardia en el cuarto de radios de 12 a 04 am
a la espera de algun eventual movimiento de fuerzas policiales
o del barco Meltemi, tras casi 23 horas de mantenerlo alejado
del puerto de Sagunto, España.
A (bumpy) day in the
life of the radio operator
By Cees, radio operator. 7 March. The day before yesterday,
Tuesday, it was just before 00:00 and I was still up. The
night before I was working 'til 1:30 to send the latest
updates from this ship about the inspection of the vessel
Meltemi. Tonight it is not work that keeps me awake.
No, it is Lesley who wants to celebrate the captain's birthday
with a Dutch start.
Disneyland - with
knobs on
By Lesley, assistant cook. 6 March. Well, OK then, I'll
tell you a bit about today. It was 'Pete the Captain's'
birthday. He is 49 and hates it. He has never been to 'Disney
World' - but if he had, I'll tell ya, it would take years
off him.
The phantom bugle player
By Chris, logistics. 5 March. "Are snails
bisexual?" someone asks, voice rising above the slurping
of soup and random chit-chat of the mess. "Don't you
mean hermaphrodites?" comes the reply. This raises
a wry smile from one or two of the Warrior's crew but nothing
more; we are no strangers to the surreal here.
Monday blues
By Lesley, assistant cook. 5 March. Well hi again. Thought
I'd tell you all a bit more about cooking on the Rainbow
Warrior today and I'm going to use yesterday as an example.
That was Monday and, believe it or not, Mondays on ships
can be just like Mondays in the office!
Aboard the Meltemi
By Meghan, web editor. 4 March. I couldn't believe it -
another log ship bound for Sete. Just last week I had gone
aboard the Agia Irene
to grab some photographs and meet the crew. I was stunned
by the sheer volume of the logs on board.
Sunday in Sete
By Lesley, assistant cook. 2 March. Hello campers! Well,
although I said that nobody gets a day off here because
we are all Eco Warriors…I was wrong. Last nite my boss,
Marco said, 'hey, Lesley, do you want tomorrow off?'. Who
am I to refuse?
Shopping in Sete
By Lesley, assistant cook. 1 March. Now, after all the
excitement and 'daring does' of the last few days, you'd
think that we'd all be taking it easy. You know, not getting
out of bed until 1pm, reading, swimming, doing a bit of
yoga - hey, even going down to the pub. Wrong!
A night in the fog
By Lesley, assistant cook. 26-27 February. Ugggghhhh. Unfortunately
that's all I can manage. It's 3.30am and I haven't had my
cup of tea to get my voice working yet. I'm about to go
out on anchor duty for the second night running. We're due
to leave at 4am to relieve my poor shipmates and allow them
some sleep.
Day II action update
By Rodrigo, deckhand. 27 February. In this audio update,
Rodrigo describes his first two days in action to stop the
Agia Irene from unloading its ancient forest wood.
From the captain's quarters
By Pete, captain. 26 February. We are in Sete, France.
Sete is at the head of the Gulf of Lions, an aptly named
bay where fierce winds are the norm, especially in winter.
Last week while docked (fortunately) in Marseille, we had
winds of over 60 knots. This wind, when it comes in from
the north-west, as it does all winter, is called the Mistral.
Anchor watch
By Meghan, web editor. 26 February. As part of our rotation
system for keeping the Agia Irene at anchor, Rodrigo
and I were scheduled for the 1:00 to 4:00 am anchor watch.
I have performed anchor watches at sea in the past - I sit
on the bridge, make certain the ship isn't moving, and walk
about the ship every hour or so to check for fires. But
this watch was a little different.
Swimming in the Mediterranean
By Meghan, web editor. 23 February. When I was packing
my belongings last week before joining the ship, I was looking
forward to doing a bit of swimming. I gleefully threw my
bathing suit and sunscreen into my pack and promised my
envy-ridden pals that I'd be coming back with a heck of
a tan. But my hopes of soaking up the sun were dashed when
I flew into Marseille, straight into the Mistral at the
peak of her performance.
|
