WESTWARD ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

WESTWARD ACROSS THE ATLANTIC- SEPT. 28, 2006


From Africa, the ship’s deck was filled by a mish-mash of everything, trash and other materials used inside the cargo hold. Our job to clean up the cargo compartments was lessened when stevedores swept out all the garbage and hoisted by crane into the deck. However due to heavy rain in the final hours, holds number 4 and 5 were left upswept until we sailed.

On the first day at sea, we disposed all garbage into the Atlantic Ocean except the plastic trash. When the ship’s deck had been cleared out of the eyesore materials, we washed cargo hold no. 1, 2, and 3. In hold no. 4and 5 tons of garbage stockpiled. Another back-breaking labor waits. The mountains of trash were removed and we continue the washing for the two remaining holds. We have less than two weeks to prepare the cargo compartments before arrival at Argentina for the next cargo of maize, wheat, and soya beans. After the washing, another tiresome works- derusting. We scaled off thick rusts using jet chisel and scrapers. All deck hands including my junior and senior deck officers, and also Captain worked together inside the cargo holds everyday. Hundreds of buckets of rusts have been scaled off. We found it hard to pull manually above deck due to heavy weight. Five days more to go before arrival, the last phase of our work started-painting. We painted the cargo compartments. A job well done commended by the Master. The question is if it could pass the high standards of Argentinian surveyors.

October 9th noontime, land ahead! A few minutes later, skyscrapers appeared towering high on our starboard side. At the wheel house chartroom, it indicated the city of Montevideo, Uruguay. The VHF radio started to gain signals on its frequency. We were informed by the Recalada pilot station for the scheduled pilot boarding time and other necessary arrangements. We rigged the pilot ladder at starboard side, 2 meters above the water. At 2 pm local time, the pilot boarded. He navigated the ship to Rio de la Plata or River Plate. I steered the ship for two hours then our Third Mate assigned me to plot the ship’s position in the nautical chart at time intervals and record the number of buoys we passed by.

River Plate (Spanish, Río de la Plata, “Silver River”), estuary of the combined Paraná and Uruguay rivers, south-eastern South America, forming a marine inlet between Uruguay and Argentina. It is about 230 km (143 mi) wide at its mouth and tapers gradually inland for a distance of about 274 km (170 mi) to the delta of the Paraná River. River Plate is of major economic and commercial importance to the region. The best natural harbor on the estuary is at Montevideo, Uruguay. Artificial harbors have been constructed at La Plata and Buenos Aires, Argentina. The estuary was discovered in 1516 by the Spanish explorer Juan Díaz de Solís, visited by Ferdinand Magellan in 1520, and received its present name from the Italian-born navigator Sebastian Cabot, who explored it between 1526 and 1529. Its banks were settled in the following decade by Pedro de Mendoza, a Spanish soldier and colonizer. Jesuit missions established nearby in the 17th and 18th centuries were designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1995.


At nine in the evening we reached the anchorage area. We reduced speed because the harbor pilot was replaced another two river pilots. The river pilots are responsible for our navigation upstream to the port of San Nicolas. Before midnight, we entered the Rio Parana inferior, major river in Argentina. It has three main divisions: the Rio Parana Inferior at downstream, Rio Parana Medio in the middle, and the Rio Parana Superior on the further upstream. From the mouth of the river, a vessel can sail more than a thousand miles upstream. The river has many branches and tributaries. Everyday, ocean-going ships pass to and fro along the river loaded with grain products, chemicals, paper, pulp, and refrigerated meat products. We continually navigated the long, sharp-curved, intestine-like river to our loading port of San Nicolas, Argentina.

COTONOU,BENIN,WEST AFRICA

COTONOU, BENIN, WEST AFRICA- SEPT. 8, 2006

Cotonou, Benin our last port of call in Africa. When our company heard about cargo pilferage and security risk that happened in our previous port of Lome, Togo, they mandated us to double the security measures in the last port and implement no ID, no access policy. According to their instructions, all ID of stevedores, foremen, tallymen, crane operators, and person engaged in the unloading operation must be Xerox copied and sent to the company thru fax. Every time those persons come on board must leave their identity card and claim when going down in order to identify who was left on board especially when the ship is about to sail. Stowaway cases are very common when a ship calls for African port. Captain also advised the crew of secrecy and not to divulge the next port of destination.

Noontime, we heaved up the anchor for docking at Cotonou port. In the grain terminal, there were three ships unloading rice from Thailand and the other one came from Vietnam. When the ship was in position, port authorities came on board. Personnel of Customs, Immigration, Port State Control, Quarantine, Coast Guard, Marine Pollution, Agriculture, Surveyor, and Agent arrived simultaneously. Captain was very busy and didn’t know who will be prioritized. Others just dropped by asking for wine, beer, cigarette, and coca cola. When transactions were finally over, port authorities faded one by one including their bodyguards with presentation items carried inside their bags. Captain shook his head in disappointment because he has never been in African ports before. Unlike in industrialized countries, port authorities come on board for ship’s documentation only and nothing asked for.

The unloading operations commenced. We started collecting ID’s of persons involved in the operations. Benin is a former French colony. I recalled the basic French phrases I had learned on my previous voyage to deal with the local folks. A simple “bonjour” and “merci” would gain respect and submission from the citizens. In everyday confiscation of their ID’s, I’ve memorized all of their names. My shipmates could not believe. Before stevedores arrive at my station, I already mention their names and ask for their identity card again. Benin citizens, Beninoise as what they called are more disciplined compared to what we had experienced in Togo. However, some are still tempted to steal rice in small quantities. Port authorities are not exempted from the strict company policy. One time during my watch, a port authority came and identified himself as a high ranking official and refused to submit his ID. I denied his entry and we had an argument. My senior officers explained to him the company policy, ultimately he agreed. Some Africans hate me due to strict enforcement of ISPS code. There’s nothing personal. I’m just doing my job regarding ship security. I don’t care if they would assault me outside if I go on shore leave.

On the fourth day at Benin, my shipmates an able seaman and an oiler whose duties at 4-8 am and pm invited me to tour the city of Cotonou. We hired 3 motorcycles with “piloto” as our driver and tour guide. First, went to the shoe tiangge at the riverbank. When my buddy bought his shoes, we headed to their shopping center. The department store is very small. Only few stores have business and items are limited. The customers are mostly foreigners. We decided to go back to ship after we bought grocery items. At the streets of Cotonou, people waved at us because they have seen an Asian face. All the people are most mostly black. There were European white and the ratio is one in a hundred. We paid our individual pilots 3 dollar each and they left. My shipmates and I took a walk to their beach near at the pier. Their beach is lifeless, without people swimming. The resorts are empty and vacant. We became tired of too much walking under the tropical heat of the sun and finally proceeded to the pier where we docked. We ate lunch and had a rest. In the midst of my in depth sleep at 1 in the afternoon, somebody banged my door. When I opened, my shipmate told me to dress up coz our ship would be shifted 50 meters backwards as ordered by Cotonou harbor master. A car carrier vessel was scheduled to dock on our forward. The unloading operation was temporarily halted. All deck hands have been stationed forward and aft for slackening and tightening of the mooring ropes. The ship gradually moved backwards until it reached the fifty meter clearance. It was already half past 3 in the afternoon when the shifting finished and I have half an hour more to refresh before my duty start at 4 pm.

On the 12th day of discharging operation, one of the vessels behind us had completed their unloading and sailed away. The harbor master ordered again to shift 100 meter backward. My senior officers and shipmates complained. A vessel like ours with a large size rope twice the normal wouldn’t be easy for shore line men to transfer the ropes especially if it sinks into the water and absorbs, it triples the weight and becomes too heavy. However, instead of paying penalties to port officials, Captain submitted to their orders. All deck crew had been stationed again into their respective posts for backward maneuvers. Both forward and aft, my shipmates and I ran out of energy caused by slacking and tightening of the ropes how many times. We thanked the watchmen who helped us heave up the ropes. After 3 and half hours, our ship was fixed to its position. The harbor master recognized our immediate response, However they informed Captain in advance that that the two ships behind us would complete their unloading next week, and our ship will maneuver again backward to occupy the shallow berth. That means another final shifting backward with a distance a size of one ship or less than 200 meters. My shipmates started to dislike this port because of vessel shifting oftentimes. Instead of having a rest or relaxation after duty, another time-consuming effort attending the back-breaking, nerve-stretching, bone-cracking, energy-draining ropes of MV COPOSA.

Sept.24, the two ships behind us cleared from berth and departed Cotonou. The harbormaster's assumption a week ago became a reality; shifting to berth number 1 in a permanent and fixed position. We finally shifted backwards until we reached the position after four hour maneuvering. Imagine, 3 days more left before the completion of loading, the port officials still insisted to transfer berth 200 meter backward only by mooring ropes and without using ship’s engine. What a heck! Of a system we had experienced in this port. My shipmates wished not to come back anymore.

Noon of Sept. 27th, the unloading ended. Stevedores and tallymen descended one by one. When all of their ID’s have been returned, we conducted stowaway search. Every space had been inspected ensuring that nobody remained on board. The rain poured heavily on the afternoon. We standby at the gang way for the port authorities’ clearance to sail. When the port officials left, the harbor pilot boarded for undocking. We left Cotonou port at 4 in the afternoon. A mile from the pier, the pilot of boarded, we secured everything forward and dismissed.

My accounts in the dark continent of Africa ended when we sailed from Benin. Another chapter waits on the opposite shores of South America.