Nostalgia

[happy daze john in oz]

NOSTALGIA

‘I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to guide me by’……

To those who have never experienced the roll of a ship on an ocean wave, that poem may well be nothing more than just, a romantic poem. But for those of us who have felt the power and awe of the ocean swell it is far more than just a poetic work.

December 27th I stood on the deck of a cruise ship about to leave from Port Melbourne. The sail-away party was well under way, the bloods indulging themselves in the music and drink provided, totally oblivious of the day, just there to enjoy the cruise. I stood on a top deck surveying the situation.

Reflections of a younger man, stood in a similar position all those years ago, leaving the same port on a much smaller vessel bound for further foreign climes.
I experienced a wave of choking emotion as I stood there looking out at the port behind us as we sailed forth. A much-changed vista from the one of all those years ago. Gone the low skyline of the city then, now replaced by one of skyscrapers and high- rise apartment blocks. Reaching ever upwards like giant arms clawing at the sky. In the roads, six cargo ships at anchor, awaiting a berth in Appleton Dock or similar. I doubt many others on that day would have noticed them as they gently swayed on the changing tide. As I looked out at the crowd it crossed my mind, how many new friendships would be established on this cruise. How many romances would blossom, how many onboard romances would eventuate. Romances that thrive on lust and passion only to die like the flame from a gutted candle in the cold hard light of disembarkation day, with memories that disappear, as does the smoke from the candle when it dies.

It was late evening when I took a turn around the deck; the only sound that of the bow wave as it broke the surface. The sea was calm, the air clear with the faint glimmer of a fading moon. The stars hung like giant bunches of grapes, I felt I could almost reach out and pluck them from that sky. The luminescence of the waves shone through the darkness, the ships wake disappearing in the distance. I felt totally at ease with the world, experiencing the smell and feel of the oceans.
It has been said that beauty is in the mind of the beholder, or sometimes-just skin deep. But there is a true beauty that many never see, the beauty of their surroundings.

It was the following afternoon that I saw them, out on the port bow, a pod of Dolphins gently gliding through the waves keeping abreast of the ship, whilst astern a large bird, maybe an Albatross or a large Black Shag, followed the ship. Most of the other bloods were totally oblivious to such natural beauty, many somnolent as they worshiped their sun god, or frolicked in the pool. This I thought is the real beauty of our world, the sea, the stars at night, or the Dolphins, as they gently glide, not the gaudy scenes that many see as beauty.

The following morning saw a much different scenario; Mother Nature was at her best. During the night we had entered an area of low pressure about 970 mb. As I looked from my port- hole I saw a sky of a very different nature. Greys of so many hues streaked with black, even Rembrandt in all his brilliance would be hard pressed to emulate such colour. The sea was a maelstrom of giant waves some, it was later reported, of up to five meters beating upon the ship’s bow. Deep inside me somewhere, an urge to see more of this. The companionways to the upper decks I knew would be cordoned off in such weather, passenger safety being a priority for the ship’s captain, but the intrepid traveller will always find a way. At the end of the deck, one above my cabin, there was I knew a door at the end leading to an outer deck at the bow of the ship. I doubted such a doorway would yet be cordoned off, the main companionways being the way most bloods would avail such an area. True to my belief this I found to be the situation. I struggled to open the door; such was the force of the wind, but somehow I did and found myself on a wind swept and very wet deck. From this point I managed to navigate the companionway to the deck above, the highest deck available to passengers.

Situated there is a flag jack to which I took a firm grip with one hand, my other holding firmly to the rail. The wind was howling, the spray and spume from the waves flowing over the decks below and carried up to the higher levels. Within seconds I was soaked to the skin. The ship hit some waves in a manner similar to a motor vehicle hitting a brick wall, no quarter given, the ship shuddering at the force. True to the engineering skills the stabilisers held her in such a manner that there was little or no roll. But the pitch of the ship was something else, as often she wallowed in the swells. King Neptune was at his best I considered, and should I die this day on such a deck I would die a happy man. The very thrill of the situation struck deep at me, to me the beauty of nature as well as the force.

I thought of our great adventurers, Drake, Cook, Columbus, Magellan, imagine them in such waters. Wooden ships some little bigger than two of the ships lifeboats together, tossed as corks in such seas. Men climbing to the top of 150-foot masts to furl sails in such weather, my admiration for such men is immeasurable. I was totally lost in the moment, not realising or caring much for the precarious position I had put myself in, I was elated and no doubt at the time a little mad. But then what manner of man has at some point in his life not taken steps that would see him in a perilous position.

Deep in thought at that time I heard a voice and felt a hand on my arm, I turned to see a deck hand in wet weather gear. ‘Sir you must come inboard it is far too dangerous to be out here’. Somehow, maybe with the aid of CCTV the officer of the watch had seen me and told the deck hand to ‘go and get that fool inboard’. Two days later I was speaking with the purser, a gentle Scot of many years sailing, on the matter of the Red Duster, more of which I will tell in a further posting, when he told me of the mad man that had been on deck during the storm. The look on his face can never be repeated when I told him I was that fool. For a second he looked at me then burst into laughter. I joined him in his merriment and when he asked why I told him of my association with the sea. Though he still considered me a little mad, he fully appreciated my sentiment, but given the chance I would do it all again.

[Doc Vernon]

Hi John
A really good account of your latest Cruise my friend,i must say that you have a way with words,but i suppose in hindsight that the Nostalgia may bring that out in any one of us old Seadogs!
I wish though that i could express myself in the way you do,its rather a knack i feel!
But as always John you certainly do put it to paper so very well!
Thanks for that,it takes one back doesnt it!
Cheers

Giving you a Five Star rating on this one mate!

Welcome back to Terra Firma!

[Ivan Cloherty]

Thanks for that John, I guess most of us would have felt the same and probably have done the same, the sea is till our greatest magnet and your words portrayed our and your thoughts beautifully.It was heart warming reading them

Ivan

[Captain Kong]

Excellent account of your cruise John. Very interesting and descriptive, I was on there with you.
, Isnt it amazing how the crew always think a blood knows nothing of Seafaring, even when you tell them you spent a lifetime at sea.

[Tony Wilding]

hi, it made me wish i was there , i often think of being in the tropics, on the 4 to 8 watch, taking the engine room gash up on deck aft to put down the shite chute, usually as dawn was breaking, see a faint glow of the sun againt the night sky, millions of stars twinkling, light a cigarette sitting on a bollard, watching the sun rapidly rising until its golden glow lit the sky,then make the tea and toast for the engineers and myself, people who have not seen that can never imagine the beautiful colours, likewise to watch the power of an angry sea in a western ocean storm. tony wilding.

[Roger Dyer]

Hello John,

Due to my being temporarily distracted elsewhere on this site I had not read the contents of this thread until a short time ago.

For once in my life, I am at a loss for words to ably describe my admiration and appreciation for what you have written (post #1). So beautifully descriptive, a literary gem. I defy any true seaman not to be moved by your words, which I believe worthy of publication. If you have any more like that I would love to read them. Well done, mate.


..............Roger

[Lou Barron]

A lovely story of your cruise yes the sea as for us guys a thing that is something that gives you a feeling of utter joy even during the war i use to love being on deck out in the middle of the ocean its in a world of your own