Trafford Publishing: Around the World by Freighter

Here is the full reference card for this book...

If you'd rather place an order by talking to one of our cheerful order desk clerks, please call 1-888-232-4444 (USA and Canada only) or 250-383-6864. From Europe, ring our UK order desk clerk at local rate number 0845 230 9601 (UK only) or 44 (0)1865 722 113.

Around the World by Freighter

by Bob Hartley

180 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-1054; ISBN 1-4120-3227-X; US$18.50, C$22.00, EUR15.50, £11.00

Rather than Around the World by Freighter, this book should be titled Live, Laugh, and Learn at Sea. I love it! You may get seasick but you won't get bored.

Read more!

About the Book About the Author Excerpt Catalogue Information

About the Book

Have you ever dreamed of traveling around the world? Do you wonder what life on board a freighter is like? What do I do all day? Do I fit the psychological profile of a freighter traveler? What kind of electric plug do I need? What is it like to be on the bridge and watch the captain and pilot maneuver our ship into port? Do they speak English? Will I get seasick?
Around the World by Freighter tells you all this and so much more in day-by-day detail.
Would you delight in watching a group of Polynesian women line dancing in Tahiti? How about wandering through Singapore's Chinatown at midnight? Sit back and travel hour by hour through the Panama Canal. You might prefer seeing London from a double-decker bus. Would you refuse a cabin search by a Saudi Arabian Customs official?
Around the World by Freighter travels 31,184 miles to all these locations and many more.
Have you ever wondered why we can't drink sea water? What is an antipode? If only there were a simple explanation of latitude and longitude. What does our weather look like when viewed from the moon? Did Amerigo Vespucci really discover America? What is it like to travel through the center of the earth and for that matter, where did our earth come from?
Around the World by Freighter's School Days will answer these and countless other questions.
This is a book for potential freighter travelers, armchair travelers, and anyone interested in basic facts about our world. It is a detailed, light-hearted account of a trip around the world on a modern container ship. As a bonus, on those dull days at sea, you will learn some interesting trivia about our planet. On your return home from this world trip you will comfortably be able to say " been there, done that, learned this."
"This delightful wonderful story about a freighter voyage offers you much to learn about the ship, ports, oceans, and the world while leisurely navigating with Mr. Hartley."
- Maris Freighter Cruises
Freighter Travel Club (since 1958)

About the Author

Unfortunately my biographer took the day off. Not having anyone to describe me in glowing terms, I will attempt an honest self examination.
I am an ordinary guy with an extraordinary wife. Together we have raised two superior children who in turn have raised four superb grandchildren. I had a mediocre job as a civil engineer with the State of New York for too long. I have average interests which don't include sports, movies, or golf and I don't particularly like to sit around and chat.
All in all, I'm a dull guy with one major flaw. I have a bad habit of being curious, inquiring, inquisitive, and nosy. I like to know what, where, when, why, and especially, how much. I am also cheap.
If you also lack an interest in football, films, or friends, you might think about leaving on an extended trip around the world. You may enjoy your absence, as will your friends.

Excerpt

Atlantic Ocean
New York- Norfolk-Savannah
Mon. Jan 21, 2004 40^o 41'14" N
000 Mi./ 00000 Total Miles 074^o 00'35" W
Transition is too weak a word for today's events. This morning I woke up in New York City, familiar surroundings for me. Seventy years ago I was born in Manhattan, grew up in New Jersey, and as a teenager, often roamed the streets of this fascinating city. After college this was home for several years while working on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Tonight I will sleep at sea, resting on a strange bed in an alien world. The events of today transcend transition, they are a major change, a giant leap. However, after walking the decks of this ship for a few days, it too will become familiar and I will again feel at home. Some of us worry about, and resist change, others seek it out and are enriched by it. Since you are still with us, you belong in the latter group. Welcome to our new neighborhood.
I write this about 8:00 P.M. as we head southbound somewhere off the coast of New Jersey. A few solitary beacons struggle through the darkness but the bright lights of the Atlantic City casinos are hidden somewhere over the horizon. This is truly a new world.
After a parting call to Marise, I left the hotel heading toward the subway, pack on my back and pulling a large suitcase behind. The F Train took me under the East River to Brooklyn faster and cheaper than any taxi during Monday's rush hour. From the subway it was a half-mile walk to the docks where the security guard checked my ticket and passport. Pointing toward the Manet he advised, "Watch the trucks out there, they could spoil your trip." Dodging trucks and forklifts, I got to the Manet and was spotted by a deckhand who came down and carried my fifty-pound suitcase up the gangplank. On board, an officer greeted me, asked if I carried any weapons, drugs, explosives, alcohol or tobacco, then summoned Cripsin, the steward, to show me to my cabin. Minutes later the Radio Officer came in and asked to see my tickets, passport, physical and yellow fever record. He carefully studied them and left. After years of dreaming and months of planning, I was on board!
Now what? Without a recreational director what does one do? I spent the next fifteen minutes pinching myself and then headed out to see what I could see. There are eighty-four days left in this trip for details of what I saw. Here, on day one, we will only skim the surface.
At noon I headed down to lunch and there met Carl and Pancha who had boarded just before me. They are going as far as Auckland, New Zealand and at first glance seem to be good fellow travelers.
The afternoon was filled with exploration, unpacking, and observing. Observing primarily the loading and positioning of giant containers as though they were little blocks of wood.
Just before dinner Reginald and Lynne returned on board from their one-day excursion of New York City. Right jolly English folks they appear to be, so it seems we are in luck with our traveling companions.
Halfway through dinner I felt the ship move and quickly excused myself to go watch our departure. At 6:30 it was dark, cold, spitting snow, with a raw wind out of the north-but I couldn't be happier. The next hour was one of the emotional highs of my life as worries of preparation turned into excitement of exploration. A tiny tug pulled along side and the Manet came alive, inching her bow away from the dock. Slipping our moorings, we entered the mouth of the Hudson River and were caught in its current flowing out through South Bay toward the Atlantic. As the lights of Manhattan faded, we passed under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. She gave us a curtsey as a fond farewell.
Tue. Jan 13 35^o 35' 21" N
355 Mi./355 Total Miles 074^o 52' 20" W
Rule number one of freighter travel-be flexible. We are going to bypass Norfolk, Virginia which was to have been our first stop. Probably because of the two-day delay crossing the Atlantic, Norfolk will be dropped and its cargo will be off-loaded in Savannah, then transferred back to Norfolk on a smaller, feeder ship. Reg and his wife Lynne who got on at Tilbury, England, said that although the ship's speed was greatly reduced during their Atlantic crossing due to high winds and thirty-foot waves, they experienced little discomfort and, in fact, rather enjoyed the experience.
On this first full day at sea I awoke early with the moon shining through the porthole. We have already left the dreary cold of New York and reached clear skies and a warmer Gulf Stream. We are about fifty miles off the coast, not far enough to fight the Gulf Stream's northerly current, but close enough to feel its warmth.
Breakfast is served between 0730 and 0830 in the officer's dining room. Five passengers sit at one table and a second rectangular table can seat six officers. Rather than discussing food each day, let me show you a typical menu. So far we have had wine at lunch and dinner, and I would expect that to continue.
CMA CGM Manet MENU
Jan. 13 Tuesday
BREAKFAST
Fresh milk/ chilled orange juice
Asst'd. Cereals
Eggs to order
Fried corn beef hash
Baked beans/ plum tomato
Fresh baked bread
Marmalade/jam/butter
Coffee or tea
LUNCH
Soup: Garlic soup w/crouton Salad, Greek salad
M. Course: Stir Fry Beef Tip's w/vegetable,
Chips, Fried eggplant
Fresh baked bread
Dessert: Custard with toppings
Coffee or Tea
DINNER
Soup of the day
Salad of the day
Entree: Spaghetti carbonara
M. Course: Chicken in tomato herb, boiled potato
Buttered pasta, steamed rice, broccoli
Asstd. Cheese/cold cuts
Fresh baked bread
Dessert: Fruit cake w/custard
Coffee or tea

Meals are served by Crispin or Criss as he prefers, the steward I mentioned earlier. Criss is Filipino, as are most of the crew members below officer level. This morning as he cleaned my room he gave a snapshot of his life. He has a twelve-year-old son and an eight-year-old daughter. He works on the ship for nine months, seven days a week, and then takes three month vacation which is roughly equivalent to three trips around and one off per year. Each day he reports to the galley at 0600 and is on duty until 2000 but that includes several long breaks. His English is sufficient for the job and will doubtless improve as he works with English-speaking passengers. His pay and tips must be good compared to the wages in the Philippines to justify his sacrifice of separation. Passengers are expected to tip the steward between $3-5 per day, per person, but no other crew member is normally tipped.
You may have noticed that I used the twenty-four-hour clock which is standard on board. To use the twenty-four-hour clock simply add 12 to any time after the noon hour. I know that most of you know what a twenty-four-hour clock is and you don't need my explanation but please remember, this book is also meant for Kaitlin, my five-year-old granddaughter. Throughout the book I might explain a number of things for her. I am not patronizing you.
Wed. Jan 14 32^o 07' 12" N
432 Mi./787 Total Miles 081^o 08' 02" W
If there is a warm breeze and the streets are lined with moss-covered oak trees, we must be in Savannah, Georgia, one of the gems of the South. At 0530 I was awakened when the engine's vibration, all but forgotten at sea, slowed to a crawl. This constant throb only becomes noticeable when it changes. In the darkness I walked out on deck and there, about twenty miles away, were the lights of a refinery marking the entrance to Savannah River and the City of Savannah five miles upstream, our first land sighting since leaving New York. the city was still asleep as we crept past at 0700, but by 0900 when we finally docked five miles upstream, the port was alive and ready to welcome our cargo.
Not knowing the procedure for leaving the ship, I checked with Danny, the radio officer, who seems to be our liaison. He advised that we must wait for the port agent before anything happens. An hour later he gave us our passports and a reboarding slip and told us to be back on board by 2200. Moments later Reg, Lynne and I started off, snaking our way through mountains of containers, looking for the yard gate. Five minutes later, a police officer picked us up, took us to the gate, and had Security call a taxi. Southern hospitality still lives. Reg and Lynne got out in town and I continued with Pat, our driver, to find a Wal-Mart for some odds and ends. Pat had been robbed the week before, and as she vividly described how the robber had held a gun to her head, I wished that she would keep her hands on the wheel.
About noon I caught a bus back to town after unsuccessfully trying to contact Marise several times by phone. Savannah is a lovely city, laid out in small squares with many of them set aside for parks filled with fountains and ancient oaks, a great town for walking. The waterfront has been restored to a "Riverwalk" lined with the usual tourist shops and a statue of Florence Martus. The story goes that Florence fell in love with a sailor who went to sea with a promise to return to marry her. For forty-four years she waved a towel at every passing ship hoping for a sign of his return. Only a bronze statue marks her spot now but I will wave back as we pass by tonight.
Marise and I have visited Savannah several times, always enjoying it, especially in the spring when the azaleas are in bloom. Finally I was able to get through on her cell phone and we relayed our news. I told her the details of our trip so far and all was well on her end. She seems to be quite comfortable and confident in her new surroundings, which makes my trip more pleasurable.
I was able to catch a bus back to within a mile of port and had no trouble getting back in after checking through Security again. At dinner tonight I mentioned that this ship is already starting to feel like home, becoming a welcome site after a day in town. Still, all is not perfect. They blocked the forward view from my porthole today, and Danny told me tonight that I must have a floppy disk in order to send an email through the ships satellite system. Maybe I can get an external floppy in Panama. However, far more serious, Pancha found out that her eighty-six-year-old mother is in the hospital. Terrible timing for Pancha with the ship now leaving the U.S. for good.
Thu. Jan 15 30^o 06' 09" N
177 Mi./964 Total Miles 079^o 18' 06" W
I had good intentions of blowing a kiss to The Waving Girl as we departed Savannah but at midnight they were still loading containers leaving me no choice but to turn in. As we slept, the Manet slipped out of port at 0200. I briefly woke around 0300 as the thump of the engine and roll of ocean swells signaled our return to sea.
On this fourth day at sea a semblance of routine has set in. Surprising how quickly we adapt to pleasure. The initial excitement has faded and we are now reasonably familiar with our surroundings. You might say we feel at home. After breakfast we each go our separate ways and I found myself on the bridge deck. Our weather has turned warm and humid, not uncomfortable yet, but pleasant. Yesterday's paper said it was expected to drop to zero degrees in New York last night. It seems so far away in distance and climate.
After some small talk with the officer on watch I went outside, and for the first time the vastness of these boundless seas hit me. From this vantage point we can turn 360 degrees and see nothing but a blue grandness speckled with white foam and an occasional breaking wave. The setting would mesmerize even the most hardened soul, wakening thoughts of heaven and earth. From our height of over eighty feet the curvature of the horizon left no doubt that the world is truly round.
However, I have a book to write and cannot lollygag around all day watching waves. It is too early in the trip to speak of a pattern but around 0900 I have been returning to my cabin, getting a cup of coffee, and reviewing what was written the night before. At 1000 I get the daily coordinates of our position with a basic GPS unit and plot where we are and how far we have traveled in the past twenty-four hours.
Before departure I had programmed the coordinates of the RV resort where Marise is staying into this gadget and by pushing a few buttons, I noticed that for the first time, the distance between our locations was increasing. Heading south from New York, I had been getting closer to Marise in Florida each day, as close as one hundred-forty-one miles at one point. Now I was drawing away from her and it left a melancholy feeling. I'm sure I will miss her more as time and distance grows.
Before I knew it, lunch was being served and Reg was telling us that he had heard that they ship took on one thousand tons of fuel at Savannah which will get us to Panama. Five thousand tons, yes, that's right tons, are needed to propel this ship around the world. I have no idea what this fuel costs, but it is the heavy sludge that is left in the refining process after gasoline and lighter oils are taken off. It is called bunker fuel and is so thick that is must be heated before it will flow.
Reg, short for Reginald, got on at Tilbury, England with his wife, Lynne. He is a large well-built man in his late fifties, bald as a billiard. He has a very quick wit and also a very quick tongue which sometimes I find difficult to understand because he speaks "English English," if you know what I mean. Lynne, who always has a wonderful smile, seems like the perfect English mother. She is the quiet partner, probably from living with Reg for many years. Anyway, Reg was full of information today. At dinner he told us that while up at the bow he had seen flying fish and a huge turtle. Imagine, one hundred miles offshore and there's still a turtle flapping along fifty feet from the ship.
Flying fish are found worldwide in warm waters. In this area they are slightly bigger then your hand and are gray in color. They emerge from the water like a shot with wings (pectoral fins) outstretched, gliding just above the surface. Some species are said to be able to travel up to six hundred feet and attain a height of thirty feet. Their flight is a means of escaping predator-like the bow of our ship.
Enough gossip for the day. Tonight we are in international waters headed away from the good old U.S. of A. Many more characters, chronicles, and countries lay over the horizon so don't jump ship yet.

Catalogue Information