1st February 2002
The last couple of days have been hellish. I’ve been working on my reports, checking and re-checking my figures and calculations. I still haven’t finished but am over the worst of it, at least all the calculations are done. Now it is just a case of looking up the various acts and regulations that have been broken and writing it all down.
I just got the worst part of my job over with…I showed the captain my final figures and he has agreed that I can send them through to MRAG, though he did ask me to wait until Monday – the day before we arrive. I am very relieved that that is over with, it’s something I’ve been dreading. I was dreading his reaction but he accepted my figures without query…not that querying it would change anything but I was glad he didn’t rant and rave and try and persuade me to change them.
I just rang MRAG and told them that I hope to arrive on Tuesday morning in Portugal. I have to phone them again on Monday to confirm my ETA and get details of my transport home. I hope we can make it to Portugal by Tuesday because the weather is atrocious at the moment. I haven’t ever seen the captain so worried as when I went up to the bridge before lunch this morning. We have hit a massive storm in mid Atlantic quite unexpectedly…actually it crept up behind us. I looked out the after bridge window to see waves as high as the cross bar on the A frame at the stern…I’ve just looked at the ships plan on the wall in my cabin and worked out that the crossbar is 16 metres above sea level (eye level from the bridge is about 11 metres). Waves that big on the stern are very dangerous but it was too late to turn the ship’s bow into the weather…there wasn’t enough time between waves to make the turn and to catch a wave beam on could roll us over. We were 120 miles from the Azores (12 hours steaming) and so couldn’t take shelter there. We had to just carry on and hope for better weather and already the wind has dropped and the sea is falling. All of this weather has made the report writing a tad more exciting; it’s like trying to write a report on horseback.
I had been saving my last miniature of Glenmorangie from Annie for the night we were due to set sail…yesterday. However I’ve been so stressed about writing my reports and stuff that I thought it would be a waste to drink it. I’m going to save it now until I have everything written up and sorted, then I’ll relish it.