Excerpts from trip journal #1
Dec 16th. Mid-deck of the "Lady Emerald" Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, south of Rum Cay.
Today I threw up on the Tropic of Cancer. The voyage from New Providence to San Salvador has been mostly smooth, save for a few hours late this morning, when I found myself chumming for sharks from the starboard rail. We spent all day in port yesterday, waiting on a fire truck. It seems there is a Club Med on San Sal, and they are having a grand re-opening and are flying in a bunch of VIP's from Paris. But to do this, they need a fire truck at the airstrip. This is why we waited 27 hours past our departure time in port. Really, the island of New Providence is only about 21 miles long at its widest; I could have walked across it in the time it took to get the truck on board. In the meantime we took aboard more cargo; in addition to the pallets of beer, booze, canned foods, mail parcels, and shipping containers, we added to it one christmas tree (how this poor fir tree found its way to the eastern caribbean I don't know), one casket (occupied), and several dozen potted shrubs. And then the mulch. In order (we thought) to get underway faster, the other passengers and I were pressed into helping load 1600 bags of red bark mulch from the delivery trucks onto the ship. Not that I minded, I wasn't doing anything else pressing at the time.
The fellow doing the cooking has managed to serve every meal as some sort of mash, mush, gruel, or stew, usually incorporating what I presume to be pigs feet. No wonder there was an ad posted on the fridge for a new cook. But at least I am being fed. I was afraid the can of sardines and two pieces of white bread I recieved shortly after boarding might be my only ration.
Post script: I would end up spending three and a half days aboard the "Lady Emerald", during which time I was provided a bunk, food, and passage from New Providence to San Salvador and on to Cat Island, where I disembarked to seek the highest point in the Bahamas. What was supposed to be a 14 hour voyage took instead 84 hours. What made it more neboulus was the fact that I had quiered the dock master, the master's mate, the deck hands, the capitan, and the cook about where the ship was headed, which islands it called on, and when it might arrive. Of the multitude of responses each gave, it was not the master or the mate or even the capitan who knew where we were going and when, but the cook. Should have known the guy with the food would know better than the rest.
Today I threw up on the Tropic of Cancer. The voyage from New Providence to San Salvador has been mostly smooth, save for a few hours late this morning, when I found myself chumming for sharks from the starboard rail. We spent all day in port yesterday, waiting on a fire truck. It seems there is a Club Med on San Sal, and they are having a grand re-opening and are flying in a bunch of VIP's from Paris. But to do this, they need a fire truck at the airstrip. This is why we waited 27 hours past our departure time in port. Really, the island of New Providence is only about 21 miles long at its widest; I could have walked across it in the time it took to get the truck on board. In the meantime we took aboard more cargo; in addition to the pallets of beer, booze, canned foods, mail parcels, and shipping containers, we added to it one christmas tree (how this poor fir tree found its way to the eastern caribbean I don't know), one casket (occupied), and several dozen potted shrubs. And then the mulch. In order (we thought) to get underway faster, the other passengers and I were pressed into helping load 1600 bags of red bark mulch from the delivery trucks onto the ship. Not that I minded, I wasn't doing anything else pressing at the time.
The fellow doing the cooking has managed to serve every meal as some sort of mash, mush, gruel, or stew, usually incorporating what I presume to be pigs feet. No wonder there was an ad posted on the fridge for a new cook. But at least I am being fed. I was afraid the can of sardines and two pieces of white bread I recieved shortly after boarding might be my only ration.
Post script: I would end up spending three and a half days aboard the "Lady Emerald", during which time I was provided a bunk, food, and passage from New Providence to San Salvador and on to Cat Island, where I disembarked to seek the highest point in the Bahamas. What was supposed to be a 14 hour voyage took instead 84 hours. What made it more neboulus was the fact that I had quiered the dock master, the master's mate, the deck hands, the capitan, and the cook about where the ship was headed, which islands it called on, and when it might arrive. Of the multitude of responses each gave, it was not the master or the mate or even the capitan who knew where we were going and when, but the cook. Should have known the guy with the food would know better than the rest.
posted by Jared | 5:03 PM
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Sibbitt-1, Tropic of Cancer-0.
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