Salad Days.01

The map above is a rough representation of countries I have visited. These are shown in the white areas. Over the coming weeks I will post about each ship I worked on in turn. The countries will be designated a colour depending on how positive, or otherwise, I was about my experiences there. Some countries I visited many times but I will give a holistic assessment of my visits.

My first ventures off our island were as a kid. My mother would organise a day-trip across to Calais from one of the ports in the south east. Ramsgate and Dover both had the hovercraft which was the favoured method of travel by most as it was the fastest. I preferred the ferry boats that sailed from both ports and Folkestone as well. It was more of an adventure on a ship, on the hovercraft I had to sit down and not move around.

The catalyst for my fascination with travel was a school trip to Germany. Every sight, sound, smell, was absorbed hungrily. Even then there were clues to life. The journey was every bit as important as the destination, and I was in no hurry to get there. Every aspect of the journey was an adventure, the coach to Dover, the ferry to ZeeBrugge, and even the seemingly endless train journey. I watched the countryside which at first looked just like England, only the towns and cities indicated I was in a foreign land. I didn't need to see signs, architecture gave it away.

My heart was almost in my mouth but in a strangely exhilarating way. Nervous excitement, like waiting your turn on the roller-coaster. It felt good. After Germany I had my first trip to France without parents when I went with my friend and his brother. It was the first of many. Joining the merchant navy was the obvious thing to do even though I swore I never would. My father went into the merchant navy after leaving the coal mines and was always away from home.

This brings us to my first deep sea ship and the beginning of the odd odyssey that over a decade took me around the globe. That first ship was a super tanker, the biggest ship on the ocean when it was built, but others had exceeded it by the time I joined. It was a mere 250,000 tonnes and was as wide as the ferry boats were long. This leviathan could only muster 13 knots at full ahead and  took twenty minutes or 8 miles to stop once under a head of steam.

I flew from Heathrow airport to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates with no knowledge of the country whatsoever. I dropped geography in favour of languages at school, mostly because I hated the geography teacher, the upshot being I hadn't even heard of the UAE. Having spent the night in a west London hotel, I felt a little special. I was just a fresh-faced kid but had never felt so adult. The solitude didn't bother me, I was used to it by then.

It was getting on for autumn and the weather was showery. I had my trusty mac on with a trilby hat trying for all the world to look like Dick Tracy. My collars were raised to cover as much of my face as possible. I wasn't horribly disfigured although it felt that way. I just wanted to hide the fact my chin had never seen a razor blade. Getting served beer was easier than it was at home, I guess they never expected a kid to be out on his own in the backstreet pubs of the west end.

Ten pounds was enough to get me relatively merry back then but I was reluctant to go back to the hotel. That would mean sleep and the experience would move to the next step. I wanted every moment to last as long as possible. The past five years had been traumatic, the last the worst. I had spent so much time just surviving I'd stopped living. Stuck in an existence, a rut, a bad situation beyond my control, one that too many find themselves in today.

Wandering the empty streets I looked at the buildings, marvelling at the architecture not seen in the Lego-like village where I grew up. I stumbled upon a huge museum, aesthetic lighting enhancing every arch and chiselled column. For fully five minutes I just stood gawping in awe at the amazing artistry that went into the construction.

The next morning a coach took me to Heathrow, the first time I had been in an airport. People were tense and fidgety but I was like I had just been handed the keys to a chocolate factory. I only had one suitcase which was jammed shut and a hold-all for the excess. In order to take as much as possible I wore my three-piece suit and my 'Dick Tracy' mac, it seemed appropriate. Somebody told me it was cold at night in the desert and having looked at an atlas, that was where I believed I was going.

Stop-overs in Munich and Kuwait meant we wouldn't get to Dubai until evening. I flew Singapore Airlines on a 747 Jumbo Jet and enjoyed this new experience. Drinks were complimentary and I had a steady supply of gin and tonic brought to me by the hostesses. On top of that I was given a pack of cards, travel chess set, and a magazine. I didn't read it on the plane as I never tired of looking out of the window.

The first sign of my naivety was when we finally touched down in Dubai. As I set foot on foreign soil I was aware of a furnace like blast of warm air. Having never flown on a jet before I thought it was coming from the engines, as I moved away from the plane I realised it wasn't. Suddenly I felt overdressed. The second sign of my naivety followed almost immediately afterwards.

Unknown to me there had been security threats and the odd hijacking here or there. As the passengers queued to board a bus, armed guards were taking their landing cards. I asked the person next to me what was happening as I joined the queue. When he told me I realised I had left my landing card on the plane. Without thinking I dashed back to the plane to get it. I ignored an unintelligible shout behind me then heard a kind of splat as a bullet whistled over my head. I assume it was a warning shot.

If it was it certainly had the desired effect as I swung round abruptly, unsure of what had just happened. Then I saw the guards running towards me with guns at the ready. They were shouting but I didn't understand. Taking a wild guess I dropped my hold-all and put my hands on my head. They kept yelling at me as one patted me down and another cautiously opened my hold-all. Eventually an English speaker asked what I was doing and when I explained the guards relaxed. They still looked a bit angry but I saw the funny side of it. Five minutes in a foreign country and I was getting shot at.

I managed to clear customs without any further drama and a taxi took me to hotel. It was one of the best hotels at the time, before twenty years of building work saw others dwarfing it. The air conditioning was like an icy blast but most welcome. I was allocated a room and the 'boy' took me to my room. They were referred to as boys but were actually adults. The first thing I saw in the room was a hockey stick, presumably left by the previous occupant. It was a weird thing to find in a hotel room and I tried to give it to the boy. He shook his head and made a chopping motion with his hand across his wrist. It was though he believed he would have his hand chopped off for stealing it.

Although I thought the gesticulating to be overly dramatic, I shrugged and decided I'd keep it. The company's agent came to see me and was apologetic stating the ship was delayed three days and I would have to stay at the hotel. I could just sign for food and non-alcoholic beverages. The guy looked at me as though I would take the news badly but it was the best news I'd heard. I tried caviar, just because it was on the menu. I hated it and just ate the biscuits it was served on. The gateau trolley was my favourite. Down in the bar I had a result as well, coming to an arrangement with the barman whereby Martini was classified as a soft drink. I felt like James Bond.

Walking around the city I saw the other side of life in Dubai. Homeless people were sleeping on flattened cardboard boxes in doorways. There was a fine powdery sand covering the paving stones and i walked to the edge of town. I headed into the desert up a dune just to see how far I could go. The sand was very fine, not like beach sand at home. Walking through it became an effort after just a short space of time. I turned back and headed for the hotel bar.

The days passed and eventually a taxi took me to a launch. The sky blue waters were amazing as we sped across them on a high powered launch. It took well over an hour before one of the launch crew pointed up ahead and I saw the ship for the first time. I was glad to see it, I was sweating buckets. Because there was no room in my case I was wearing my three-piece suit and mac in 110 degree heat. If that wasn't enough I was carrying the hockey stick I found in the room. The ship didn't look much at first but as the launch drew closer I started to realise just how big it was. Being light-ship (no cargo on board) it towered above the water, getting up the gangway was to prove difficult.

It was with some effort I struggled up the gangway with case in one hand, hold-all in the other, and hockey stick in my teeth. The First Mate was at the top of the gangway to welcome me aboard but when he saw how I was dressed, and the hockey stick in my mouth, he closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.