Container Ship to Australia

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.

The lights of Sydney are starting glow on the horizon. I guess that means it’s time to start worrying about things like where to stay or how to get across the country to Indonesia.