Our position at 0412 hrs CST is 3° 55.5’ north and 41° 38.4’ west. Water is becoming shallower, about 6.000 feet. There are several rocks poking out of the water ahead of us. I never noticed them before, just about on the shoulder of Brazil. I shall get coordinates later. If you are following this exciting journey, look on your map and find them: I have christened them the “Surprise Islands”.
Fernando de Noronha Islands
In local news, the bread is getting moldy today. Crewmen are pinching off the green and purple patches and eating the bread, but methinks the mold is hungrier at the moment than the men. Tomorrow, all of our bread will be green. Then what? Naturally, Moony can make better bread, or rolls, or pastries than those guys can, so we won’t miss a thing.
This old tub is holding up amazingly well, if misdirected by our betters. The tugs have each had some late trouble, beginning with one of the crewmembers being knocked off his feet by a wave and driving his head into a steel bulkhead. He is now okay, but was beaten up pretty badly. The Sherpa then lost a generator, resulting in a flash, loss of generator, and loss of a fuel heating element. They repaired it. This morning the Sherpa lost an air line to a fuel pump and fixed it. Later the Alpine lost an injector and repaired it, also. Meanwhile, we are just ginning along, thrusters and diesels purring. Rub-a-dub-dub, Thirty men in a tub…
An hour ago, we passed a very small motorized fishing boat some three hundred miles from the nearest land. Two guys waving and hollering out in 15-foot seas. Who knows where the live—Brazil, I guess. By the stack, it appeared that it was a little gasoline rig. That little boat almost disappeared behind waves, then gamely reappeared like a cork.
It is 4100 miles to Cape Town, 9400 miles to Dampier. The trip is dragging now and getting boring. Our management only allows us to run two generators “to save fuel”. While saving all that fuel, we are moving at 6.1 knots—more or less—which translates to much more time at sea, which means burning much more fuel. They desire to save enough fuel crossing the Atlantic that they can continue on to Australia without buying fuel at Cape Town. That, is possibly stupid. Being in charge of marine operations must be very rewarding and easy for non-mariners. Life at sea can be difficult under such tom foolery. One doesn’t have to be a scholar to run a ship, but stupid doesn’t help as much as one might think. I know from experience that being stupid is harder than I thought it would be. We are on our 25th day at sea, and at the current rate of speed are still 29 days to Cape Town
If I seem to be rambling, I am. I keep thinking that if I continue to write, something will pop into my head, but it may be like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and when you get there, it says “No Exit.” While I remember it, referring back to good titles for books, I always thought From Here To Eternity, by James Jones, was an exceptional title, as well as book. It came from the words of The Whiffenpoof Song, adopted by Yale after a Harvard man, Guy Scull, wrote the tune. Meade Minnigerode wrote the lyrics, and both the lyrics and the tune are memorable. In part:
Gentlemen songsters off on a spree,
Doomed from here to eternity.
Lord, have mercy on such as we….
When I was a lad, my grandmother had a 78 rpm record of Bing Crosby and Fred Waring doing that song, and I loved it. Some of you may remember Bing Crosby: some anymore. I do not know that Minnigerode’s line was original, but it is a fine one. “From here…to eternity”—it cranks up a lot of possibilities in one’s head. I think there almost has to be an element of mystery in a title to make it appealing, like The Well at the World’s End, by William Morris, or Horseman, Pass By (McMurtry). I would write a book if I could think of a title. Perhaps, if I could come up with a great title, I could find a story to match. Nah. I suppose I’ll put this down and read a real book for awhile. Maybe tomorrow we’ll go flying. G’night.
Friday, January 23, 2009, fish day with Moony (it’ll be good), 26th day.
We are 2 degrees north of the equator and shall cross it in the morning at a diagonal at about W36° 39’. That gets us east of the big Brazilian shoulder at 35 degrees. Once a few degrees south of the equator, we’ll come to a stop and refuel off one of the boats. Speed is up to near 8 knots today, thank heavens. Temperature outside is a balmy, tropical 83°. The ocean is not blue today: it is battleship gray, like quick-silver. One might describe it as beautiful, mysterious, ugly, lovely, mean…mostly it is seemingly infinite and unknowable, and utterly indifferent.
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