Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Cruise 4.1: Maiden call mystery, pt.1

Sitno >>217<<

Got a package from the General! Full of tiny socks and lotions! Now I won't have to wash my socks every five days. Face and body and hand cream galore! Oh, he sent me some such dense vaseline for hands that have made my paws and nails softer and more moisturised than they've been since I wept into them on the Ljubljana airport... And some baby wipes for makeup removing and red hair dye. And some old shoes with heels that were once part of the parade uniform for the army, but they are too ugly. :D

Land manager delivered the box and he seemed happy to see me. I like him, I feel bad for the situation he's in. He asked how I was.
Am I being fired?
Then I'm grand.
Why would you be fired?
There's a rumor going around my manager told everyone he'll be rid of me in a month.
I know what is going on, I have eyes and ears. Just bear with me for a little while longer ...
I am fine, really. I like this ship, I like my job. I'll be fine. Thank you for bringing me the box. 
If there is anything you need, just ask. You got my email?
I got back from lunch three minutes too late, as I missunderstood when I have to be back (usually it's on the hour or half hours) and that was several bonus minutes of shouting at me. Now he won't be able to get lunch, he yelled, he will have to stay hungry until the evening!!... (Because, you know, we only have three restaurants and they only serve food for five minutes every day...) I bowed my head, admited it is deeply my fault and was truly sorry, it will never happen again.

Something tells me SLSB never got a little package from anyone in all these years.
I wonder if I should mention to the Land Manager about his spitting dirty words after people, because one of these days someone who can understand him will hear him and that'll be reported. 
You know I answer to no less than five bosses these days? Four of which only care about money and one which maybe cares about quality? The ship owner, the ship master, the hotel manager, the land manager and my manager... That's cosmic karma for ye right there.

Now. How does one dye their hair in a tiny windowless bathroom without poisoning oneself? :D


Sitno >>216<<
Times told I probably "broke the camera": 27
Times diet bent: thrice, once for a blueberry crumble pie, once for a chocolate praline and once for a PinaColada.
Times yelled at by SLSB: only twice!

After the gallery was done last night, I joined some people for a drink and later some food - I had no idea you can get food from eleven till twelve, though I do remember being warned about what kind of food that is - it's good, it's salty and it's greasy - a buffet of comfort food, like sausages wrapped in bacon, pizzas and french fries... Wasn't at all hungry, so wasn't tempted, but oh dear. What if someday ... I dare not think about it. 
So, a stand up comedian, a pianist, a magician, a travel booker and a photographer walk into a late night snack buffet... Stop me if you heard this one. 
Naa, 'twas nice. There was some existencial philosophy and linquistic comparative and stuff like that. Is welsh langauge older than slavic? People keep asking me how I feel about my life lately, meaning my job and living here. And lately my answer is: 'I honestly don't know.. I am extremely happy, yet I keep looking out for an opportunity to piss somebody off and they'll throw me off the ship..' Which is precisely how I feel. And it's weird. It almost feels kind of idealistically fatalistic and it's been a while since I felt so proud of trying hard to be normal.  

Sitno >>215<<

Seaday, first formal. Been okay. Wasn't allowed to take studio portraits, because reasons (and I am too slow) but it's okay; I took some when boss wasn't watching and actually spoke to people. It's easy to give them compliments, because everyone looks really nice on formals. Good Gods the bedazzle on some of these people! It doesn't even have to be expensive, it can just look awesome. I also learned a really good line - if someone says: I don't take a good photograph... - I answer: but madam, I am the one taking the photograph... :D

Sitno >>214<<

Ha! I was right! We are in Norway! ... And by 'i was right' I mean the General has been keeping me posted on our satelite location :D Still. I suspected I was right, because DOo was teasing: "So, where are we going?"
"Er..... No we're not. How you know that?"
It is good to come in from the sea after two days. I know it doesn't seem like much, but you are kind of disoriented were it not for the sun, sorrounded by only horizon anywhere you look. Everything seems like an anomaly: every school of fish, every bird, every ship, be in tanker, freighter or a fishing thingie, or an oil rig, or an oil discharge trail, everything is just this weird interruption of a very ample entity. There is too much freaking water on this planet. Yes. I know. It's the only reason we are here. But truly. The sea is just too fucking big. Mind, the arrogance of man's achieved we could get from Europe to America in five days. Which is also weird. It wouldn't be the same if that dick Columbus 'discovered' Cuba in a week. 

I got told off for not locking the lab, though I always leave the key in the door so I don't forget. Turns out I DID lock it, but not closed it enough (doors on ships weight a ton) so it kind of just stuck, but you could pull it open still. Now I know. Double chech every time, everything. 

So, as far as I can tell, Larvik was that place where they tried to make heavy water or some such, to get some nuclear warheads going, but that sub sank and never came up again. There are a lot of war memorials around here. Even though the weasle Quisling (and I apologize to weasels) or whatever his name was, sold Norway to the Nazis as fast as he could, people fought, teeth and claw. I can relate. My country capitulated and threw a parade on top, but nobody messed with the Nazis like the partisans. Paid a terrible price, but boy oh boy did they make the aggressors work for their money.
Hm, someone told me the fleet owners used to eploy the Gurkhas for security officers. Must check if that's true. It would be pretty guardcore. 

Morning spent shooting gangway, which wasn't horrifically busy on the best of norms, though I think I did well. I no longer try to paparazzo people, I just invite politely and 80% turn me down, but until I find a way to get people more willing, it'll do. I remembered what the Seascape guy told me - when people are awfully lit by strong and clear sunlight, facing the sun, use the 1/1 flash - maximum flash ability - which for some truly odd reason worked perfectly. I think. I always think I did great until SLSB shits all over it. Dad called and mum was angry with him for he talked too long, which kind of made me feel bad, but I asked G to give her some money, so that she'll feel bad. Dad said i've been gone for a month (28 days in fact), which he counts from the time he last saw me.. Eh. Feelings.

My shoppie shipmate and I explored the waterfront, finding a school, a church, a graffiti, a Noah's Arc project, built possibly by the same character who restored Kon Tikki, a wooden watchtower/water diving ramp, a sea bomb made statue, a sleeping train and traditionally dressed wedding party. Then we had to return to the ship and stand in the gallery for 8 hours. My heels look like that of a lepper, scabs and skin everywhere. But people were in a great mood. There was a normal people "sail away" party going on on the sun deck and I took some shots there. There's a crew party scheduled to happen on the deck zero as well. Am waiting to see if anyone from my circle calls me and we go together. Otherwise I'll just go to bed and get up at five again. Can't sleep sometimes, so I just walk around, wondering whom to bother ... 
Every time DOo comes by and we start talking about something interesting while I'm in the gallery or on the gangway, SLSB interrupts us or eavesdrops. It is not allowed for affairs to occur amidst the higher ranks, so it would be just like SLSB to start dirty rumors about people. Ask me how many flying fucks I give. But it could be dangerous to DOo. This ship services rich old Englishmen - the company would not suffer a reclamation of senior staff getting cosy with the lesser or any other kind of crew. And if you are chasing skirt around ships, sooner or later you stick your dick in stupid and that never ends well. No matter how much I think Highest Ups are knights and gentlemen, you'd be amazed by the the sexual harassment suits. Look at the Costa Concordia asshole captain - they punished him by giving him house arrest with his wife. 
So there's supposed to be this oath thing taken. Which I kind of like, really - you swear yourself to a sort of priesthood while in the fleet. Poor DOo. Selling your fun side for money to a floating retirement home. I think there's even a ring involved. How kinky is that. The church of ShipShip.

Instead of the gym, I offed to the crew party and danced for two hours. Mostly to hide the fact I am the only person not drinking. And I missed my camera like oxygen. It was odd at first, everyone sober, nobody dancing, lots of food. Baloons, yikes. Hate baloons. I made an effort to hide behind a paper ribbon. But half an hour and fifty free beers and cheap merlot later, the room was in a rave. Some unusual crew members showed up, some danced, other just drank and smiled and chatted. I danced until I felt dehydrated and hot, so took a shower and set the alarm for five hours later. Need to do laundry. Mustn't forget. Ran out of the unmentionables and it's weird to wear a skirt and no undies.

Sitno >>213<<

An oddly melancholy day.
I've been thinking how odd the seamen are. They spend all their days on ships, on the merciless water, under merciless weather, and when they come home, they pack their dogs and their rods and their drinks and go sailing... I can't think of people this connected to anything else. Well, no, of course I can. Writers. Cooks. Crooks. Me. 
Yesterday I saw SLSB grab a camera and go out and I thought, quite happily, that perhaps he can see that we are in a very pretty town we've never been before and he will enjoy some free time and take some nice shots.. 
LoL. Ye. Like that would ever happen. He only did it to get some postcard material to make more money. Cause, you know, never in a million years would he ever look at any of mine, yet alone use them. But that's okay. It used to sadden me. Things that sadden me today could not be further removed. And one of our pax and his wife passed me and I heard him say: That girl is one of the photographers from our ship. She's the only one with the decent camera. 

We're in some Danish town whose name escapes me today and it's so pretty I can't stop crying. It's just weird, full onslaught of depression; I'm probably getting my period again. First the phone company informed me I spent 170 eur this month and I was like WTF, we are the seventh of May and last month we spent only 60 eur... Alas, as it turns out, damn Denmark isn't in our constract something and all those calls we made and texts we sent (in april) on perfect signal, were Danish. For the first time ever it's not the money that upset me at all, but the thought I am far away from the General again. I've gotten too used texting him twenty times a day. Now we're back to looking for wifi to Skype, sorrounded by strangers (very hard to flash boobs and dicks via Skype in McDonalds, just saying.) and a text per day. So the part that saddens me today the most is being unable to tell him how happy I am and how cute the little fishing boats are and how I can totally see us living in such a minute town where everything smells like vagina (rotting seashells, as I can find on the bottoms of ship bellies) some day, salty wind making my hair and his beard stand tall, and there's vikings. No, really, when we got to port the whole town was waiting for us, along with fighting vikings and ladies with very long copper (or brass, dunno) horns. It was DOo's turn to get the little plaque from the major, and I offed to explore. Another perfect day. The locals are wearing shorts and flippyfloppies or bike leather, the Philipino crew are wearing winter coats and Uggies boots. I'm sitting in the shadow of an old fishing shacks row, turned into a sunday art market. The vikings that performed for us are now handing out pamphlets and the viking boat that met with us is sleeping somewhere, waiting for the wind to pick up. The reconstructed viking village is supposedly an hour's sail away. 
I want to tell G how happy I am, how in love, how alive. 
There is so much beauty in the world. And I am so alone. 
I miss him through a thousand tears.
Thinking of the kisses I'm not having is like nails being hammered in me.
I can see him in these shitty little fishing boats.
I can see us on these wet smelly piers.
I can see us in these old sunburnt couples.
I miss him too damn much.
I am too much his for this not to hurt like a bitch.. :,(

Hehe. A tall norse lady, a retired alternative healer and schoolteacher, saw me crying and stopped to ask what time it is for she is going to catch a ferry to go across the bay dancing. (I mean she is going to A dance, not that she is going to dance across the bay. Anyway.) We chatted about how beautiful the spring and the wind and the boats are. Fuck. Now I'm even happier and am crying even more. It's getting hard to type, the iPad is so wet and salty. 
I found a road! I only had two hours to walk it and it ended with me going up and down two times barefoot ankles deep in freezing ocean, but I found a road! It was so much like the home roads that I suffered both extremes thorough the trek: full joy and full despair. But I think despair was just ordinary homesickness supported by thirst (I've emptied two half liter glasses of drink over diner once I got back), and now that I am home, showered, no more sand in my shoes, I had coffee and my salad diner, I think the day has been okay. Stupid phone company. Isn't there a way to cap the spending? Limit it to 50 bucks or so? 
Off to work again. I said a little prayer to Hermes and Triton on the silty beach, where kids splashes around and played in water that would probably kill me in ten minutes. You know, I was thinking, if I ever see a ...school?...flock?...band?... A lot of whales swimming and we are not in full throttle, I might jump off and swim with them. If they killed me or the propeller chopped me up, when my family was informed I got killed jumping off a ship to swim with whales, they would go: ye. Sounds like her. 

3+ with a little touch of 3-

Sitno >>212<<

Went to see a magic show last night. An hour of fun. Though I was able to see through some of the tricks, the best part was the 'comedy' bit, as the guy was cute and funny... "Now look in your bag, at the very bottom of your bag, there will be a 100 pound bill there!... Is it? No? Would have been really cool if it was, though..." :D The highlight was a levitating table, which he ran around with, around the room. That actually looked like magic and I have no idea how it worked, only that it had something to do with the cloth he was holding (but waving around plenty).. There was a bit of a mentalist thing going on, but it was a tough crowd. And I am not easily manipulated, because my imagination is too wild. Even if I tried very hard to pretend I am part of the audience. 

We docked in Denmark again today, not sure where. I keep waiting for the Captain to anounce: ”Good morning ladeez and jentlimen, we have arrived at X. It is 15 degreez Celsius on a beautiful sunny day, with the wind speed of 2 knots and we are 20 cm under the keel. Have a nice morning and we sail away again tonight at seven.."
..ye. 20 cm under the keel sounds possible. We might have ploughed there a little bit... Although, gotsta say, these dock pilots people, they can really parallel park!

Woke up early to see the docking, but it was nothing to see, really. By now I know we pick up the pilot - literally - a man comes with a fast little boat and we actually open the hull door and he jumps in. He then maneuvers the ship to the dock, sometimes pivoting it, often times just sort of sliding it sideways. These ships are remarcably agyle. Like, it takes no time at all of it to stop and you can bring it to a dock within a meter without any contact ever being felt. The dock workers then grab the lines and tie the ship and when the lines are tightened, the ship is pulled into the tires on the wall. Depending on the tide, we then lay a gangway, which can go up, but mostly down and no matter how easy it is, someone will complain about it. Though, you remember what I said about gangways, ye? They are much too tempty.

Hehe, the CCTv that's on the bridge, showing the ship's view of the dock, is usually playing Bach or Chopin or some odd opera, but today it's soundtracks time and I can tell each sountract after a second: The Phantom Menace (D.Maul fight), Gladiator (Now We Are Free), Lord of the Rings (main theme), Harry Potter (Welcome to Hoghwarts)... :D

Waiting for the Crew Accounts to open, so I can change some money and stop walking around with British pounds and Norwegian krone like an idiot. Alas, no Danish coins here. I'll end up with a dozen tiny plastic bags of various currence that refuses to go euro..Why can't people just use bitcoin or something, or one singular currency. I'm losing half my pay in exchange. And don't say because banks have to make their living somehow, because if there is someone who makes too much money...

... Or you just use euros and pay five bucks for a blizzard in McDonalds. Again, it's an okay price to pay for an hour of Skype with the General and blog posting... Though for some reason the blog won't let me in, thinking I'm an intruder... Great. Eh. 

It's hard, talking to G. I have so little to say. I don't want to talk. I want to lie on top of him and listen to him breathe and sleep. I want to be quiet with him, like we used to be, in a room for hours. That silence was like a snuggie, the warmest, most comfortable silence there ever was. 


Toni Arlic said...

You'll in 206 days ;)) :***