After my horror show sailboat experience, I wobbled ashore with
sleepless awkward sea legs and immediately – after a splendid comatose
slumber – began to face the predicament
of how the hell to get to Australia. The one other yacht sailing to Australia
from New Zealand was now all filled up, and the only cruise ship headed in that
direction wanted $6400 for its remaining room and couldn’t guarantee I’d be
allowed off in Australia. That left me with one last dreaded option: another
cargo ship.
 |
| Goodbye New Zealand |
My previous cargo ship experience of mind-numbing boredom, conversation-less
meals, and unclean bathrooms had, combined with the price tag, left me far from
enthused about hopping aboard another one. Thankfully, not all ships are
created equal.
The Bahia Grande was a magnificent vessel, bounds ahead of
my previous one. It was larger and newer with vastly superior facilities. There
was starboard side veranda, an elevator, a gymnasium that actually had working
cardio machines, and there was even a basketball court at the back. It must be
the coolest court I’ve ever seen, it sits just 20 feet above the rushing ocean
and it is underneath a stack of containers. Also, the fact that it is a foot or
two too short means that I can actually dunk on it, and that makes me feel like
a champion.
Both the crew and officers were willing to strike up a
conversation. The chief engineer even gave me a tour of the engine room, and by
engine room I mean more of an engine warehouse. Nine pistons about 30 feet tall
constantly drive the meaty propeller which pushes this 254 meter behemoth
across the world’s oceans, burning through 60-75 tons of diesel fuel a day in
the process.
Not only were the officers more talkative, but there were
actually other passengers this time! And they could speak fluent English! One
was a Kiwi former sniper mercenary from the Angolan war (how many Kiwi snipers
are there that I’ve met 2 already), and the other two were an extremely nice
couple from Australia. In addition to English dialogue, the Australians even
offered up a few places to stay on my journey through their country.
Less conversant, though much more hairy, were the 5 horse
passengers who were also hitching a ride from Auckland to Sydney. In a special
horse carrying container, these 5 guys just sort of ate, crapped, and looked
timidly unsure of everything that was going on for 3 days. I asked what happens
when they get seasick, because I know that horses don’t puke, and I got the
unsatisfying answer that, apparently, horses just don’t get seasick.
Unfortunately, the weather was similarly pleasant. I was
hoping there would be at least a small dose of gale force winds or skyscraper
sized waves crashing over the bow so that I could feel better about being on a
massive ship, but alas, there was nothing but clear skies and relatively calm
water.
