Thursday, February 28, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Genoa the city of Small Cars....
It was still dark when we pulled into Genoa on the morning of February the6th. Mal and I looked out of our porthole and were greeted by a beautifulcrescent of dazzling lights. The city rises up out of the Mediterranean Seaand is guarded by a semicircular ridge of mountains which sweep down to thesea on either side. Development is limited to a crescent on the foothills.The original port is nestled to the east of the bay, close to the center oftown. Eventually Genoa needed a larger port to accommodate commercialshipping. They expanded in the only direction that they could, into the bay.The new port is built on reclaimed land and land fill and sits to the westof the original port. The Jakarta was quietly coasting into the bay towardthe commercial port.
Never let it be said that Mal or I ever our confused our priorities. We hada limited amount of time to shop in Antwerp before boarding the ship and soour liquor supply consisted of a bottle of brandy, a bottle of whiskey and afew bottles of wine. The house wines on the boat are Inglenook and GreatWall of China whites and reds. The Inglenooks leave a lot to be desiredand, in all honesty, we didn't even try the Chinese wine. Our first orderof business was to hail a taxi and request that he take us to the nearestliquor store. As we approached the center of town I realized why the carsare so small. All the streets are narrow and cobbled and follow no geometricpattern. Most of them are two way because to try to impose one way systemswould be very difficult. None of the streets run parallel, wonderful toshop in, difficult to negotiate by car. Fortunately none of the oldbuildings have been razed to make room for modern high rises and so itremains charming. The people we met were equally charming.
We brought Paul, a fellow traveling companion, with us. By the time wefinished our shopping we had purchased 53 bottles and Paul had purchased 36.It is a long way to Jakarta, our next stop. Our cabin is 6 levels up fromthe main deck, which, in turn, is a long gangway climb from the dock. Thereis no elevator so getting our wine to our cabin was quite a challenge!Needless to say we are enjoying every hard earned drop.
We left Genoa in the evening and were rewarded with the same dazzlingdisplay of lights. I would love to return when we have more time to explorethe city.
Never let it be said that Mal or I ever our confused our priorities. We hada limited amount of time to shop in Antwerp before boarding the ship and soour liquor supply consisted of a bottle of brandy, a bottle of whiskey and afew bottles of wine. The house wines on the boat are Inglenook and GreatWall of China whites and reds. The Inglenooks leave a lot to be desiredand, in all honesty, we didn't even try the Chinese wine. Our first orderof business was to hail a taxi and request that he take us to the nearestliquor store. As we approached the center of town I realized why the carsare so small. All the streets are narrow and cobbled and follow no geometricpattern. Most of them are two way because to try to impose one way systemswould be very difficult. None of the streets run parallel, wonderful toshop in, difficult to negotiate by car. Fortunately none of the oldbuildings have been razed to make room for modern high rises and so itremains charming. The people we met were equally charming.
We brought Paul, a fellow traveling companion, with us. By the time wefinished our shopping we had purchased 53 bottles and Paul had purchased 36.It is a long way to Jakarta, our next stop. Our cabin is 6 levels up fromthe main deck, which, in turn, is a long gangway climb from the dock. Thereis no elevator so getting our wine to our cabin was quite a challenge!Needless to say we are enjoying every hard earned drop.
We left Genoa in the evening and were rewarded with the same dazzlingdisplay of lights. I would love to return when we have more time to explorethe city.
The Storm
We left Genoa in the evening and made our way down the west coast of Italy.At approximately 7:30 P.M. the next evening Mal and I noticed scatteredlights to starboard. We went up to the pilot deck to investigate and wererewarded by the sight of Mount Vesuvius erupting into the night sky. Twohours later we were negotiating the straits of Messina between Italy and Sicily. The lights of the towns on either side were so bright that they litup the night sky. The passage is narrow and full of boat traffic so we hada pilot aboard to help us navigate.
Later that night I was rudely awakened out of a deep sleep by theshuddering and pitching of the boat. We were in a storm. Very soon theboat was rolling from side to side. We are 600 feet long, two footballfields, so we were able to ride the waves but occasionally we pitch poledinto a large trough caused by an extra large wave. The impact of the boatsinking into the water caused the whole boat to shudder. There was verylittle sleep the rest of the night.
The next day the storm abated. It was fun to watch it from the shelter ofour room. I tried to imagine what it might be like in a 40 foot sail boat.Let me just say that Mal and I have no plans to sail around the world.
By night fall the storm ramped up again. It looked like another restlessnight. We had some respite for a couple of hours as our course took ussouth of Crete and into the shelter of the island. By the next morning thestorm had finally run its course and we were able to enjoy the beautifulMediterranean weather we had anticipated. The entry in the ships log wasforce 10 winds on the Beaufort scale for both nights (winds 55 to 63 milesper hour) Force 12 is a hurricane.
Later that night I was rudely awakened out of a deep sleep by theshuddering and pitching of the boat. We were in a storm. Very soon theboat was rolling from side to side. We are 600 feet long, two footballfields, so we were able to ride the waves but occasionally we pitch poledinto a large trough caused by an extra large wave. The impact of the boatsinking into the water caused the whole boat to shudder. There was verylittle sleep the rest of the night.
The next day the storm abated. It was fun to watch it from the shelter ofour room. I tried to imagine what it might be like in a 40 foot sail boat.Let me just say that Mal and I have no plans to sail around the world.
By night fall the storm ramped up again. It looked like another restlessnight. We had some respite for a couple of hours as our course took ussouth of Crete and into the shelter of the island. By the next morning thestorm had finally run its course and we were able to enjoy the beautifulMediterranean weather we had anticipated. The entry in the ships log wasforce 10 winds on the Beaufort scale for both nights (winds 55 to 63 milesper hour) Force 12 is a hurricane.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The inevitable lifeboat drill
This "out of space" looking life raft holds 36 people, 3 more than thenumber of people aboard. As you can see it is stowed on an incline.In order for everybody to be in a sitting position when afloat, wemust lie on our backs prior to launch. Each seat is numbered. Maland I are 10 and 11. The launch of the life raft can be quiteballistic so, during the drill, a crew member adjusted our seat belts. They will remain this way for the rest of the trip. I'm afraidpeople who are claustrophobic would find this drill very challenging:there is approximately a 26" clearance between seat itself and themolded support for the seat ahead.
The raft has propulsion and steering capabilities. The last man toenter the pod is the helmsman. One has to wonder. If the boat issinking in the middle of nowhere where exactly would he be taking us?The thought crossed my mind that it might be easier to don one's lifejacket and jump overboard!
The raft has propulsion and steering capabilities. The last man toenter the pod is the helmsman. One has to wonder. If the boat issinking in the middle of nowhere where exactly would he be taking us?The thought crossed my mind that it might be easier to don one's lifejacket and jump overboard!
Pics from the Singermans at Sea
For those of you interested, here are some pictures from the ship....
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Update on the Adventure...
Our adventure started sooner than expected. Mal’s briefcase was stolen in
Brussels airport. Gone were our passports, boarding tickets, visas for
China and Vietnam, money, jewelry, telephone, which doubled as Mal’s phone
book, camera, and saddest of all, our faithful cribbage board, a gift from
Jerry and Joyce Tully, that has traveled the world with us. It happened at
the baggage carousel while were distracted by our suitcases. The police were
familiar the modus operendi of the thieves, gave us their condolences and
wrote up a comprehensive report. This happened on a Sunday and so there was
nothing to do but find a centrally located hotel from which to launch our
recovery plan. Sunday was a bleak day.
Our good friend, Bert Willitt, once counseled that the difference between
disaster and adventure was attitude – and yes, the word attitude arose on
several occasions, but by the time we retired on Monday night, we had:
Two brand new U.S. passports
Two new Chinese visas in our brand new passports
Copies of our yellow fever vaccinations, a must have to enter China, in the
Fed. Ex. system winging their way to Brussels
Money also on its way, courtesy of American Express
A promise by the port agents that we could board without our
tickets
The Vietnamese embassy was closed on Tuesday so we spent the day picking up
the wired money, getting our suitcases aboard the Jakarta in Antwerp, and
returning to Brussels to beat a path to the suburb of Ganshorn, where our
good friends Francis and Deirdre, who were in Edinburgh, put their flat at
our disposal.
Wednesday morning we were issued our Vietnamese visas and at 3.00 P.M. we
boarded the Jakarta with an E.T.D. of midnight. Miraculously we had replaced
all the documents needed for our trip except our proof of vaccination
certificates. They were scheduled to arrive at Francis’s flat on Thursday.
Mal and I stayed up to watch the crew cast off. At 1.00 A.M., in the
absence of any activity on the boat, we retired for the night expecting to
awaken in the English Channel. Not so. We awoke still docked! The fuel
company had filled us with the wrong fuel. It took most of the day to
correct the problem. Meanwhile our vaccination certificates arrived in
Brussels. Francis, who had returned from Edinburgh on Wednesday afternoon,
hopped in his car sans shower or breakfast and drove all the way to Antwerp
to deliver our certificates in person. What a friend! By the time we
sailed, we had managed to replace all of the documentation necessary to our
trip.
We cast off Thursday evening at 7:30 P.M. The port of Antwerp is one of the
largest in Europe. It is on a river which stretches from the city of
Antwerp to the Netherlands. It takes 6 to 8 hours to navigate through the
river and estuary to reach the English Channel. At approximately 1:00 A.M.
Mal and I were rudely awakened by the thumps of moving objects in our
cabin. We had just cleared land and were heading out into a storm in the
channel. It took some tidying of loose objects before we were able to get
back to sleep. The pilot who guided us out of Antwerp was still onboard.
Several attempts to get him into the pilot boat that same night failed
because of the storm. Scuttlebutt was that he was planning to disembark at
Folkstone.
Friday morning found us running along the English coast. We had just
finished lunch (food is great)when a crew member invited us outside to see a
helicopter hovering very close to the ship. There was a man dressed in an
orange suit suspended from the helicopter. He had a microphone strapped to
his chest but he appeared to indicate his wishes using hand signals.
Imagine our surprise when he gently swung toward us as if to land on our
ship.
Could the man in the orange suit have anything to do with our pilot?
We watched with interest as he made several more failed attempts to land on
our boat. Suddenly the helicopter withdrew reeling up our man in the orange
suit. As they prepared to take off they waved us all a hearty good bye.
The British coast guard was carrying out a training mission and chose our
boat as their target vessel.
We are two of six passengers, two Canadians, one Brit and one German, all
men, and all very companionable. The Officers and crew held a welcoming
party for us on Saturday night. I will let the photos speak for
themselves. So far Mal and I are having a wonderful time. As I write this
we have passed Gibraltar and are heading through the Mediterranean sea
toward Genoa.
Brussels airport. Gone were our passports, boarding tickets, visas for
China and Vietnam, money, jewelry, telephone, which doubled as Mal’s phone
book, camera, and saddest of all, our faithful cribbage board, a gift from
Jerry and Joyce Tully, that has traveled the world with us. It happened at
the baggage carousel while were distracted by our suitcases. The police were
familiar the modus operendi of the thieves, gave us their condolences and
wrote up a comprehensive report. This happened on a Sunday and so there was
nothing to do but find a centrally located hotel from which to launch our
recovery plan. Sunday was a bleak day.
Our good friend, Bert Willitt, once counseled that the difference between
disaster and adventure was attitude – and yes, the word attitude arose on
several occasions, but by the time we retired on Monday night, we had:
Two brand new U.S. passports
Two new Chinese visas in our brand new passports
Copies of our yellow fever vaccinations, a must have to enter China, in the
Fed. Ex. system winging their way to Brussels
Money also on its way, courtesy of American Express
A promise by the port agents that we could board without our
tickets
The Vietnamese embassy was closed on Tuesday so we spent the day picking up
the wired money, getting our suitcases aboard the Jakarta in Antwerp, and
returning to Brussels to beat a path to the suburb of Ganshorn, where our
good friends Francis and Deirdre, who were in Edinburgh, put their flat at
our disposal.
Wednesday morning we were issued our Vietnamese visas and at 3.00 P.M. we
boarded the Jakarta with an E.T.D. of midnight. Miraculously we had replaced
all the documents needed for our trip except our proof of vaccination
certificates. They were scheduled to arrive at Francis’s flat on Thursday.
Mal and I stayed up to watch the crew cast off. At 1.00 A.M., in the
absence of any activity on the boat, we retired for the night expecting to
awaken in the English Channel. Not so. We awoke still docked! The fuel
company had filled us with the wrong fuel. It took most of the day to
correct the problem. Meanwhile our vaccination certificates arrived in
Brussels. Francis, who had returned from Edinburgh on Wednesday afternoon,
hopped in his car sans shower or breakfast and drove all the way to Antwerp
to deliver our certificates in person. What a friend! By the time we
sailed, we had managed to replace all of the documentation necessary to our
trip.
We cast off Thursday evening at 7:30 P.M. The port of Antwerp is one of the
largest in Europe. It is on a river which stretches from the city of
Antwerp to the Netherlands. It takes 6 to 8 hours to navigate through the
river and estuary to reach the English Channel. At approximately 1:00 A.M.
Mal and I were rudely awakened by the thumps of moving objects in our
cabin. We had just cleared land and were heading out into a storm in the
channel. It took some tidying of loose objects before we were able to get
back to sleep. The pilot who guided us out of Antwerp was still onboard.
Several attempts to get him into the pilot boat that same night failed
because of the storm. Scuttlebutt was that he was planning to disembark at
Folkstone.
Friday morning found us running along the English coast. We had just
finished lunch (food is great)when a crew member invited us outside to see a
helicopter hovering very close to the ship. There was a man dressed in an
orange suit suspended from the helicopter. He had a microphone strapped to
his chest but he appeared to indicate his wishes using hand signals.
Imagine our surprise when he gently swung toward us as if to land on our
ship.
Could the man in the orange suit have anything to do with our pilot?
We watched with interest as he made several more failed attempts to land on
our boat. Suddenly the helicopter withdrew reeling up our man in the orange
suit. As they prepared to take off they waved us all a hearty good bye.
The British coast guard was carrying out a training mission and chose our
boat as their target vessel.
We are two of six passengers, two Canadians, one Brit and one German, all
men, and all very companionable. The Officers and crew held a welcoming
party for us on Saturday night. I will let the photos speak for
themselves. So far Mal and I are having a wonderful time. As I write this
we have passed Gibraltar and are heading through the Mediterranean sea
toward Genoa.
Friday, February 1, 2008
The difference between a disaster and an adventure is attitude...
Well, our trip got off to a rather "adventurous" start. While retrieving our luggage in the airport in Brussels, our briefcase containing our passports, visas, camera and cash was stolen from our luggage cart. Upon reporting this to the authorities, we were met with a lot of solemn head shaking...apparently this sort of thing is quite common in that airport. Sunday was a bleak day....We had resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have to spend several days in Brussels, and fly to Genoa to meet our ship in the next port; however we were determined not to let this incident get us down.
Early Monday morning, we were at the doors of the American Consulate. They were so helpful, we were actually able to replace everything in a day and a half, and I am happy to report that I am dictating this to our daughter, Jennifer, (from the one cellular phone that wasn't stolen) from the taxi on the way to board the Rikmans Jakarta here in Brussels! In true Singerman fashion, we were also able to fit in some fabulous Flemish meals in between visits to the consulate and the American Express office.
Bye for now!
Anne Marie and Mal
Early Monday morning, we were at the doors of the American Consulate. They were so helpful, we were actually able to replace everything in a day and a half, and I am happy to report that I am dictating this to our daughter, Jennifer, (from the one cellular phone that wasn't stolen) from the taxi on the way to board the Rikmans Jakarta here in Brussels! In true Singerman fashion, we were also able to fit in some fabulous Flemish meals in between visits to the consulate and the American Express office.
Bye for now!
Anne Marie and Mal
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