CANDOER Retirement Group

Tuesday, March 14

Awaking this morning and going out on deck before breakfast, imagine our surprise to find the gantry cranes all finished with their work. The ship was going to sail shortly! Drat! It had been our intention to go ashore again after breakfast to make a few purchases and try once more to exchange E-mails. No such luck!

We sailed at 0800 for our next port of call across the Atlantic Ocean, Halifax, Nova Scotia. The day was beautiful, with the temperature in the low 70F's and a slight sea.

Just as the ship was passing through the mouth of the Bay of Gibraltar, the British Marines put on an unexpected show for our close-up enjoyment. We watched as a C-130 plane took off from Gibraltar airport and flew overhead. It then dropped a pontoon boat by parachute a mile off our port side bow. After circling around, four parachutists floated down into the bay, landing quite close to their objective, the pontoon boat. This was supervised by two small British Naval vessels standing by.

As we were heading west out the Strait of Gibraltar, something took place which brought to memory those old swashbuckling films of Errol Flynn and sails on the high seas. Sailors were sent to the highest point on the mast to furl, or unfurl, the sails standing precariously on just a rope over the deck or sea far below.

This ship has a horizontal crane which operates across its breadth with folding booms extending 30 feet past either side. The crane is used for lifting heavy machinery aboard and then to drop directly into hatches for the engine or ship supply rooms below. The booms are folded up vertically when the ship is at sea or not in use. At the end of each boom there is a flashing lamp for when it is deployed. Today, the electrician had to climb out there and change the lamp. The scene from below made a terrific photograph of him out 30 feet past the side of the ship and 85 feet above the sea! But the electrician cheated. He was wearing a safety harness (He was no fool!).

Just prior to sunset, we sighted one whale performing his "blowing" routine several times. It was a bit distant from this ship to get a good view without the binoculars.

Wednesday, March 15

It was another nice day, but with the temperature still in the 70F range. That probably won't last too much longer. The ship was on a track which would take us just north of the Azores Islands.

The deck hands were everywhere with high pressure hoses giving the ship another desperately needed washing, from bridge to upper deck, bow to stern. No one has satisfactorily explained why the upper deck is the lowest one on this ship.

Thursday, March 16

For the first time since Singapore, we had an overcast day. We hadn't experienced any rain since then, either. It was still 70F.

In Algeciras, Spain, the ship took on a new load of food provisions. We had ice cream today for the first time in quite a while. That made everyone happy, especially the captain, who really likes it. He has had trouble keeping enough on hand. There are certain things he takes personal control over, and the ice cream supply is one of them.

After supper, we had a change of weather for the worse. Some pretty good- sized swells were coming straight from Greenland to our starboard side. While we couldn't call this a storm (the moon was visible much of the time), they caused the captain to slow the speed of the ship.

Friday, March 17 (St. Patrick's Day)

No green seas today. They were dark and angry! The swells and wind from the north continued throughout the night bringing 14-21 foot waves like we hadn't seen since our wild days crossing the north Pacific several weeks ago. We'd almost forgotten what real waves were like! Doing anything on deck was out of the question. Even though the temperature was 61F, the wind, rain and spray everywhere made conditions ugly.

Yet, if this could be called a storm, it certainly was different from what is expected of the north Atlantic. Alternately, there were blue sky, dark clouds, bright sun, rain, fog, with the cycle repeated many times throughout the day. The low-flying clouds raced by. When we reached open spaces, we saw the cloud cover was probably not more than 2,000 feet high.

For the first time in three days, we passed another ship this afternoon.

By evening the waves had subsided considerably.

Saturday, March 18

The morning started off lovely with a golden sunrise, and the sea fairly calm. What surprised us was the temperature of 65F, for we were now in the Gulf Stream just south of the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. When we planned the trip, we just knew mid-March in the mid-Atlantic would be fairly cold and brought appropriate clothing.

By 1400, the sea had gotten itself worked up into a frothy state again. The emergency boat drill which was scheduled for 1520 was canceled as being too risky in such wind. It was a wise decision for our boat station was on the windy side of the ship today.

As the day progressed into evening, the winds increased as well as the 20- foot waves which were coming directly at us on the port side. Just before darkness overtook us, it was exciting to watch the enormous sheets of water and spray being taken off the waves and blown high into the air! The ship had been running at about half speed, so this ameliorated the severe rolling which might otherwise occur. At least we didn't fall out of our chairs or bed at night.

Sunday, March 19

As the ship slowly (emphasis added) proceeded for Halifax, Nova Scotia, we definitely lost our 65F temperatures of recent days. It was only 40F today. The wind and waves had also shifted 180 degrees to directly out of the north, and with some ferocity. Oh, for yesterday's 20 foot waves! After breakfast they were all at least 30 feet, with some probably peaking at 45 feet. Mountainous would describe them quite nicely.

Regardless of this ship's tremendous size (292 meters or 958 feet long), the forces of nature; i.e. storms, can easily overcome what mankind may have developed to accommodate those forces. For instance, the front portion is reinforced to withstand the force of most waves at our maximum speed. However, times do come when waves such as those of today necessitate a reduction of speed. Beneath the main deck of containers, there is a long passageway running the entire length of the ship. When the force of the waves begin to bend the ship past a certain critical point, an alarm sounds to the bridge to reduce speed at once. This alarm system is activated by a photo-electric beam which runs the length of the tunnel. If the ship bends too much, it goes off! That happened today. The engineers say it is scary to look down this tunnel in high seas for it "bends like a snake!"

Running at half speed for much of the past two days, our arrival in Halifax would be delayed by as much as one full day. Jim loves riding these wild waves and often stands out on deck observing the winds ripping the tops off them into massive sheets of spray. The scenes would make great pictures, but the camera lens gets covered with salt spray the instant it is opened to take a picture.

In the dining room, we sat with ship's officers at our table, opposing each other facing fore and aft. We must have looked like a comical crew when, like today, during meal times the ship made heavy rolls leaning far to port then starboard while we are like eating on a teeter-totter grabbing things to keep them from sliding off the table. It was good for laughs.

Monday, March 20

At 0900, we docked at Halifax, Nova Scotia.

The temperature was right at the freezing level on an overcast day, but with little wind, fortunately. There was even some ice and the remains of a previous snow fall. What a change from just three days ago! But, we were prepared.

As we were just about to descend the gangway for an extended shore visit, the Rev. Louis Saldanha, chaplain of the Stella Maris seamen's center, was coming aboard. He told us if we waited until he finished his business, he would give us a lift into the city. With his car at the bottom of the gangway and on a day like today, who could refuse such an offer?

Having thoroughly visited Halifax nine years ago, we limited our touring to indoor activities. Father Saldanha was having a Lenten Mass at noon, so we attended it and took him to lunch afterwards at a quaint local pub called "The Rogue's Roost". It actually was a micro-brewery which served mighty good beer and lunches in the heart of the city. We had an extremely interesting visit with Fr. Saldanha. It turned out that he is a native of Bombay, India. Talking to him about Catholics in India was fascinating. After all, according to tradition, the apostle St. Thomas was bringing Christianity to India before the time of Sts. Peter and Paul in Rome!

If Seattle is the coffee house capital of the USA, then Halifax has that honor for Canada. The number of coffee shops and cafes is amazing. Many of them are of the INTERNET/Cyber type. But not a single one would allow us to plug in our laptop to a telephone line to send/receive our E-mails! All of their computers were directly connected via cable television links. We didn't even have the option to pay for the use of a telephone line. There just wasn't any available. So we ended up going to KINKO's and using one of their public FAX machine lines. And they did not even charge us for the use of the line and local call.

Anyone who has not visited Halifax and Nova Scotia owes it to themselves to see and enjoy this charming, historic city and countryside.

Sadly, one of the most incredible series of independent, multiple disasters ever experienced by mankind occurred here December 6, 1917. In the two days previous, the twin cities of Halifax and Dartmouth (a half mile across the harbour and Halifax Bay) were cut off from the rest of the country by a massive winter storm leaving heavy, wet, snow more than three feet deep everywhere. This caused many older buildings and roofs to collapse making a large number of people homeless.

Then on the morning of December 6th, two freighters, heavily loaded with high explosives bound for the World War I theater in Europe collided in the fog of the inner Halifax harbour. This resulted in a single, horrific explosion that: a. flattened every structure within a mile facing the harbour and started a fire storm from broken gas mains and collapsed buildings; b. blew all the water out of Halifax bay for about two minutes; c. then the returning tidal wave instantly flooded both cities for several blocks inland drowning those in freezing water who were not already killed by either the initial blast or fire storm.

Thousands died within minutes in what then was believed to be the largest man-made explosion.

Word of the disaster did not reach the outside until amateur (ham) radio operators living far enough away reported it. Remember, rural electrification in 1917 was pretty much a novelty, as was ham radio. Provision of aid to the survivors was impossible for several days due to blocked roads, rails and destroyed hospitals, food stocks, etc. The citizens of Boston, Massachusetts were amongst the first to provide support for they could reach Halifax quickly by sea. Since then, as a continuing token of thanks, each year the city of Halifax sends to Boston the large Christmas tree which is mounted and decorated in the Boston city center.

But, enough of the dark side of Halifax history. Its future is getting brighter all the time.

With one of the deepest natural harbours on the east coast of North America, Halifax has developed a container port which is able to accommodate the largest existing container ships or those about to be built.

The recently announced merger of the Canadian National and the Burlington Northern-Santa Fe railroads fit well with this port. To make this viable, the rails between Halifax and Montreal still must be upgraded to double track the entire distance. The trains are brought directly on to the docks so that cargo moves rapidly in both directions.

Eventually most European containers to and from the American and Canadian midwest will be handled more expeditiously here vice other east coast U.S. ports because Halifax is one day closer to Europe.

We spent the entire day ashore, enjoying the city, exchanging E-mails, sending postcards, minor shopping, returning exhausted to the ship just before dark.

The evening was spent reading and answering a week's accumulation of E- mail. Having the laptop along on this voyage and E-mail capability was really nice, for keeping in touch became easy and inexpensive.

Tuesday, March 21

At 0300, the ship sailed for Newark, New Jersey.

The last full day at sea was quite a dreary one. The prospect of this incredible voyage ending didn't help to brighten things. Visibility was very poor, the sea was slight, plus it was damp to be outside, but not too cold.

For the first time on this voyage, the ship was "surfing" by riding 10-foot waves coming directly from behind and, amazingly, travelling the same speed as the ship. These are called "following waves" and sailors are very wary of them. They can disable a ship by breaking the rudder and thereby control of the ship's direction.

The exhaust from the funnel went straight up, with the wind and ship speed being identical. This continued all day, and was a rather strange sensation as the ship rolled quite a bit. The captain said when this vessel has following waves striking from the rear, but not exactly direct, balance becomes a greater problem than waves coming from the side or front. That certainly was evident all day. Walking inside the superstructure on the cross corridors was like going uphill or downhill.

Wednesday, March 22

Fifty-one days ago, at midnight we silently slipped beneath the Oakland-San Francisco Bay and Golden Gate bridges leaving the shores of the U.S. This morning, at the break of day, we slipped just as silently beneath the Verrazano Bridge at the entrance to New York harbour and eventual return home.

At 0800 we docked at the port of Newark, New Jersey. It was the end of a wonderful voyage and realization of a life long dream to sail around the world.