Cargo trip to the Baltic Sea (Finland)

[kerouac2]

I had been wanting to do this for quite some time, and when I was finally ready, covid-19 got in the way for 2 years.  And even in 2022, about 80% of the previously offered cargo trips are still not available.  Basically, in Europe you can go to other destinations in Europe as well as a few places in the Caribbean and North America.  I was able to book about my 4th choice after throwing myself at the mercy of the cargo trip agency ("Just tell me where I can go and when!").  And this was a trip from Antwerp to Finland and back.

Before even considering my application, the agency needed to receive my vaccination status, my insurance information and a medical certificate from my doctor since I am considered elderly (over the age of 65).  An antigenic covid test less than 24 hours old was also required before boarding.

I did all this, but that was not all.  Before boarding, you have to go to the immigration police at the port to get another certificate for presentation to the captain.  This turned out to be the most annoying detail, because the port of Antwerp is actually 18 kilometres from the city  The immigration police office is at the far side of the port, which was also quite far from my embarcation point.  There was no appropriate public transportation to get there.  I checked with the tourist office, and they also concluded that a taxi was the only option, and yes, it would be expensive.

I got into a taxi with a Pakistani driver with a beard down to there, so I figured it would be an interesting trip.  He spoke pretty good English, had never been to the port but relied on his GPS to find the address.  He talked about all sorts of things, a lot of which I did not understand, but than he started ranting about "the mosque, the mosque!"  I did not want to get into a theological discussion with such a person, but it soon turned out that he was actually upset about "the mask, the mask!"  He had only received a warning but one of his friends had been fined 250 euros for a mask violation.

After a long trip, we arrived at the police station.  The meter said 67.20.  "Is 70 euros okay," he asked.  "I would prefer 67.20," I replied.  "But what about something for me?"  I stood my ground, but did not protest when he put 68 euros on his card reader.  I was just happy to see the back of him.  Stupid me.

I was buzzed into the police office and got the necessary certificate.  But the policeman wanted to know "where is your taxi?"  I said that it had left and he asked "How are you going to get to your ship?"  This was basically the end of a dead end road with no traffic passing.  The middle of nowhere.  I told him I needed to find another taxi.  Luckily, another seaman was there with his taxi at the same time.  The policeman asked the taxi driver something along the lines (in Flemish) of "this idiot let his taxi go; can you call a colleague to come and get him?"  Once it was determined that I could pay cash (a definite warning sign), an appointment was made but for 2 hours later because I had gone the police office early (not knowing how long it would take) and also knew that I was not to show up at the ship before 16:30.

"Where are you going to wait?" the policeman wanted to know.  I indicated that this was a waiting room (it even had vending machines), and he just shrugged, thinking "it takes all kinds..."

I settled in with my book, but the various people arriving were more fascinating -- two Poles who had been omitted from the crew list of their ship (it took about 8 phones calls to get them sorted out), a Russian, since there are still a few ships going to Russia with essential goods, a couple of unidentified nationalities, including two guys who just needed permission to go on a ship for 2 hours to test equipment but who still needed the certificate.  And then you need another certificate from the same office when you disembark.  Could this be done online?  Apparently not.  Nobody paid the least bit of attention to me since people are often stranded at the office.

I am still wondering what they do in this curtained cubicle.  A strip search?

[kerouac2]

At precisely 15:00 my driver arrived. She was a tiny and jovial Flemish woman, so I was already feeling better after the long beard. But she took me to a luxurious shiny black van for 8 passengers, and I knew that trouble was in the offing.

Nautical term:

The ‘offing’ refers to the sea just beyond the shoreline that stretches to the horizon. Look outs on the shore would first catch sight of approaching ships when they were ‘in the offing’. They were usually expected to reach dock before the next tide hence their arrival was inevitably going to be very soon.

However, it was a splendid rapid ride. This woman was familiar with every dock in Antwerp, including dock 1213. "Ah, Transfennica," she said. "You are going on the Pulpca?" The first part of the trip on empty roads and through underwater tunnels was very straightforward. The dock numbers kept rising. I don't know if there are really more than a thousand mooring positions in Antwerp, but the numbering made it appear that way, because the signs didn't seem to skip any numbers. We entered the labyrinth of 1213 (and some other numbers), and I was actually kind of happy to have this driver, who knew exactly where she was going, unlike a normal taxi driver. I was also happy to have seen a photograph of the Pulpca, because a lot of the ships in the area looked like complete derelicts. Notably, right next to the Pulpca there was a rusty Chinese cargo ship that looked like it was about to sink. I learned later that it has been there for more than a year, awaiting its fate, probably due to unpaid port fees, a missing owner or god knows what all. I was still an hour early and was hoping to be able to just wait on the dock and take some photos of all this, but I was driven right to the Ro-Ro ramp of the ship (Roll On-Roll Off) and she enquired whether I could board immediately. Yes, I could. And then she asked for 70 euros. I said I was a bit surprised since the taxi had covered a much longer distance for a lower fare. She was just surprised. "They didn't tell you?" Well no, they hadn't. She was clearly in good faith and probably would have knocked at least 10 euros off the fare if I had expressed outrage, but I preferred to pay and keep things pleasant, especially since she was so efficient.

Interestingly enough, I had a message on my telephone from the agency when I got my telephone to work again. The agent informed me to expect to pay 130 euros for the trip. "Yes, I know it's a lot." Which is probably why she did not reveal this detail until the last day. Since I had paid 138 euros while being stupid, I think I got off pretty easy.

The third mate took me up to my cabin, which made it clear why the medical certificate required the doctor to confirm that I could climb stairs. The messroom deck was ten levels up, but not a straightforward ten levels. First about 7 levels in a stairway, then you cross over to the other side of the ship for some reason to keep going up, stepping over various bulkheads, and I was finally on my level. The passenger cabins are called "drivers cabins" because they were designed for the time when complete trailer trucks with their cab and driver would take the ship. In modern times, only the trailer make the trip and a new local cab and driver takes over at the destination, which makes a lot more sense.

This is my cabin.



I had both life vests and immersion suits if necessary as well as enough extra toilet paper for an attack of dysentery.



In olden times, I travelled on ships with portholes. Now ships have actual windows, albeit unopenable.





A telephone provided all necessary numbers. I don't think people use these things anymore.



And this was my shiny, clean corridor. One thing that has not changed on ships is that they are cleaned cleaned cleaned constantly.

[kerouac2]

We weren't leaving until about 22:00, so there was nothing to do except watch the containers being loaded, which is really quite fascinating.







The photos are not really clear because the windows had a salt rime on them.













I visited the quite nice passenger lounge which I did not use a single time except to come and look at the maps on the wall from time to time.

[htmb]

Fascinating! You do know how to tell a good tale. Looking forward to hearing more of the story.

[cheerypeabrain]

Wow. I was curious when you said that you'd be incommunicado for 10 days or so but far too polite to enquire as to why. How interesting...very Michael Palin! I'm looking foward to more

[kerouac2]

I met the other passenger, a Dutchman by the name of Herman. Very spry for an old man (5 years younger than me); he enthusiastically told me that he had just been sky diving. He should have some interesting stories to tell. We were both a bit dismayed by the obligatory dining hours: 07:30, 11:30, 17:30. In fact dinner time arrived almost immediately. Passengers (drivers?) have a separate dining room from the officers mess or the crew mess, all on the same deck with the poetic name that I mentioned above. Dinner was do-it-yourself pita sandwiches with spicy ground beef which was rather surprising but not bad. It was too early to be hungry anyway.

Then there was nothing to do except wait to leave. Cargo loading was still in progress on the inside decks, mostly trailers.











When night had fallen, we finally left. Yay!



Besides the ultra slow speed, if you look at a map of Antwerp, you will see why it took more than two hours to reach the North Sea.



We also squeezed through locks and drawbridges.





Finally a wider channel. The industrial zone went on forever.



There was also a gigantic refinery.



All of that was behind us the next morning at dawn.

[onlyMark]

Sept 4, 2022 4:15:49 GMT kerouac2 said:

obligatory dining hours: 07:30, 11:30, 17:30

Half an hour later, 08:00, 12:00, 18:00, would sound disproportionally nicer. I wonder the reason for the odd times. I expect you can't get anything to eat outside those hours but if they are obligatory, is there a punishment if you miss a meal?

[mickthecactus]

Fascinating stuff! Thanks.

[bjd]

When you wrote the post about Anterp, there was a hint there about a ship. I looked up departure times of ships from the port but couldn't have guessed which one it was. Lucky you to have sailed somewhere, even if it was just a frieghter to Finland and back. It still sounds like a lot of jumping through covid and other hoops to do so. Maybe it will ease a bit in the future.

[kerouac2]

Sept 4, 2022 5:52:21 GMT onlyMark said:

I wonder the reason for the odd times. I expect you can't get anything to eat outside those hours but if they are obligatory, is there a punishment if you miss a meal?

I think they were feeding us half an hour ahead of the crew, who deserved their undivided attention. Actually, we had access to a refrigerator containing juice, milk, buttermilk (WTF?), various condiments, margarine, jam, cold cuts and sliced cheese. There was also a box with two kinds of sliced bread, a toaster and a microwave. I saw the cook checking several times a day to see if anything needed to be replenished, so we were definitely not being mistreated. The other passenger skipped lunch twice when we were docked in Finland because he had brought his bicycle and was covering a lot more ground than I. But he informed them ahead of time and there was only one place set on those days.

Sept 4, 2022 6:49:23 GMT bjd said:

It still sounds like a lot of jumping through covid and other hoops to do so.

We were told to have our original ticket, vaccination proof, insurance proof, antigenic test result and the police document for presentation upon boarding in Antwerp. Nobody ever asked to see a single one of those things (50€ for the covid test! Shit!). The duty officer just glanced at my passport when I came on board and that was it. However, the police office was totally computerised of course, and I am quite sure that the information from there was transmitted to the ship. In fact, the other passenger (Herman) told me that he had met the captain when he was in the police office, so they take at least that stuff seriously.

[kerouac2]

We had to cross the entire North Sea before entering the Baltic Sea.

the bridge, to which we had free access

plenty of other vessels of course

[kerouac2]

It was time for the grand tour of the entire ship, escorted by the Filipino third mate. The ship was actually half empty on this trip.





the third mate and Herman





Crew members need to play sometimes.



Many of them have bicycles.



out on the "weather deck"





The weather deck is where the outdoor containers are piled up.





They still have these useless things, probably just for show (and tradition).





This is where the mooring cables are.  We also saw the room where all of the replacement cables were kept.





The engine room was the main thing to visit. Yes, it really is about 50° in there.



Everything is always so incredibly clean. The crew really do spend a big part of the day swabbing the decks.



Actually there are a few cold air blowers here and there in the engine room to get some relief from the heat.



Anything with a button or a dial is there for security.



It is hard to imagine the time when there were men down there shoveling coal into the boiler (and no cold air blower!).



There were many inflatable life rafts, but we were also shown the big lifeboat for the last survivors.





oars no longer required





And that completed the tour up and down about 15 decks. Time for a coffee break in the messroom.

[kerouac2]

Time for a tiny pedagogic moment

The root of mess is the Old French mes, "portion of food" (cf. modern French mets), drawn from the Latin verb mittere, meaning "to send" and "to put" (cf. modern French mettre), the original sense being "a course of a meal put on the table"; cfr. also the modern Italian portata with the same meaning, past participle of portare, to bring. This sense of mess, which appeared in English in the 13th century, was often used for cooked or liquid dishes in particular, as in the "mess of pottage" (porridge or soup) or Eton mess.

[kerouac2]

I had to take some of the pictures through the windows, which were coated with salt spray.



Land ho!





We had arrived where small boats were no longer afraid.



There was still a bit of a way to go.



And then we arrived at the port of Hanko, Finland.





Just think of how they must feel when a huge cargo ship comes to disrupt their lives.



But it was time for the 11:30 soup.

[onlyMark]

I asked about the food because of wondering about doing a trip. I'm glad there is at least some provision to have a sandwich between meals.
Fascinating photos of something we rarely see but, the bridge is totally underwhelming. Looks like an afterthought in an abandoned canteen.

[lugg]

Ah so this is what you had hinted at - Yikes thank you ...not something I would ever do but what a pleasure to read and view.

Call me shallow but I immediately thought so glad for K2 the top bunk was not occupied and what the heck was that dishwater soup.made of?

Seeing the DFDS ship brought back some unpleasant memories when years ago I crossed to Denmark aboard one. Worst experience of travel ever.

[bixaorellana]

This is a report and a half! I'm absolutely fascinated by the account of being aboard a container ship -- not just the parts about being a passenger, but the logistical and tactical stuff, too. Do you know if you two passengers were the allowed limit, or simply the only two who had applied to go?

I'm pretty sure that the curtained cubical in the police station is for dealing with people who have one foot much larger than the other. Can't be too careful about those types.

Since you didn't avail yourself of the passenger lounge, what did you do instead?

Sept 4, 2022 8:41:37 GMT kerouac2 said:

They still have these useless things, probably just for show (and tradition).

I doubt you'd be saying that if you were "Maaaan overbooooard!".

Great explanatory pictures throughout & all the photos in #13 are just wonderful.

Waiting to see more!

[biddy]

Great account!

[kerouac2]

Sept 5, 2022 0:11:29 GMT bixaorellana said:

Do you know if you two passengers were the allowed limit, or simply the only two who had applied to go?

The limit for this ship was eight passengers in four cabins. In fact, the very next trip was going to have seven passengers (Belgian and Swiss). This is much more than usual, but apparently they had combined the passengers signed up for two different ships because one of the ships was delayed in England (due to the strike?). The captain was a bit worried because he never sees that many passengers and wondered if they would be perfect (like us) or rowdy. Since it is traditional (obligatory?) to allow passengers access to the bridge, he was not at all comfortable with the idea of all of them comng up at the same time.

[bixaorellana]

That can only be a politeness/hospitality worry of the captain's, as he has absolute authority over the vessel and can certainly deny anyone access to the bridge.

[mickthecactus]

Belgians. That says it all...

[kerouac2]

It was time to disembark for the first time. We would be in port until late afternoon.





Since I wasn't given enough time to take a proper picture in Antwerp, here is the Pulpca. It dates from 2008 and is 205 metres long.





In a day or two, you will probably find a report about the charming town of Hanko, Finland in the Europe section of the board.



Understanding signs in Finnish was going to be a challenge.

[kerouac2]

shoretime interlude

check Europe section

[kerouac2]

The port being a bit confusing with no signs, not even in Finnish, the best way not to get lost was to follow the train tracks.



I think that these big cylinders are for vegetable oil.



 a neighbouring ship









These little houses just on the other side amazed me.



Here are my cabin windows.  One big surprise about the ship was that nothing was symmetrical inside.



My windows are the first two on the far right in the line of 10 windows.

[cheerypeabrain]

A truly fascinating report. The ship looks so clean! A real adventure.

[kerouac2]

Time to leave for the next stop, Rauma.



Here is brief glimpse of how to get from dock level to my cabin. You start with a door just after the basketball hoop.



Climb climb climb 10 levels.

But that's not all. At the top, you cross over to the other side of the ship (why?), go along another corridor and reach a security door. The door remains coded as long as the ship is docked, and I did not have the code (pssst! 2016Y). However a crew member arrived within a minute and coded me in. Then there was just one more long corridor and two levels to climb.

Back to looking out of my cabin window for awhile  We need some rain to wash off this shit.



And we left Hanko.

[kerouac2]

The next morning we were in Rauma.

I made the decision in Rauma not to go on shore. I'm not sure it was the right decision, but I knew that it required a walk of 3.5 km to go into town, and I did not expect it to be much different from Hanko, even though it is a bigger town. Obviously, the day seemed a bit longer than usual, but I had my two books, my laptop and my mobile phone to occupy my time.

I went up to the bridge to inspect the view.



I inspected the map of the Finnish coast in the passenger lounge and it made it clear why you have to avoid certain areas.



lessons to learn



All of the containers were removed from the weather deck.



So of course it was time to start piling new containers on.

[kerouac2]

Time for lunch. I think that the things that look like green beans were actually recycled plastic sticks.



Oh, and there was salad.



This is the path the ships use to get around the island confetti.



When they finish loading it will be time to go again.



I always promise myself that I will not take any more sunset pictures, but I could not help myself.









We were supposed to return to Antwerp, but instead we returned to Hanko for mysterious reasons. This used half a day and cost a shitload of money.

[kerouac2]

It's time to talk about the food. It was no worse than most other institutional cooking in huge pots. We received exactly the same food as the crew. For Sunday lunch, you could tell that a special effort was made because we had huge tender steaks.

However, there was something that Herman and I noticed from the very first day -- the use of dill. It was fresh tasty dill, and it was in absolutely everything -- the salad, the soup, the mashed potatoes, the vegetable, the gravy. It was in every single item except dessert. As good as it was, by the second day it had become a running joke. "Oh, I think I taste a bit of dill." By the fifth day, I was still appreciating the novelty and had resolved to use dill in my mashed potatoes in the future and more often in salad and a few other items in the future.  I think dill even moved above basil in my personal hierarchy.

And then the dill suddenly disappeared without a trace. This was all the more surprising because it disappeared on the day we had smoked salmon with cream cheese, a dish which requires fresh dill in both France and the Netherlands. We never got a taste of dill again for the rest of the trip. Had they suddenly run out of dill? Had the crew threatened a mutiny? The second possiblity is more likely.

The new second cook was from Latvia, and he was certainly responsible for all of the dill. I found this on a Latvian food site:

If you come from France, Spain or Italy, you will no doubt approve of this stringy herb as a flavoring for seafood dishes. If you are Scandinavian, gravadlax salmon makes marvellous use of dill.

However, the thought of dill sprinkled over a pork chop, chopped and carpet-bombed into a salad or mixed in with a meat sauce will probably cause you to experience stomach spasms.

Latvians have stronger constitutions and an innate belief that there is no dish that cannot be enhanced by the liberal application of dill.

It goes without saying that dill will be in any pickle jar. It is popular in teas. I have seen dill pesto with my own eyes. I have heard rumours of dill vodka. Someone once boasted to me of dill ice cream.

If you don't like dill - or if you have an allergy to dill - you have no business being in Latvia. Luckily I like dill. I used to like it a lot, but like an opium smoker after many years of narcotic exposure, my tastebuds have become so sated by the taste of dill that these days it barely registers.

I no longer notice if I am eating dill, but I certainly notice when I am not eating dill.

A trip to Estonia or Lithuania has me thinking their potatoes taste a bit strange. Of course, they do not taste strange. They just do not taste of dill.

Just as Hungarians place a pot of spicy paprika on the table with every meal, Latvians place a heap of chopped dill roughly the size of a freshly-dug grave. The idea is that you take a shovel and fill in any parts of your plate that the chef has forgotten to cover with dill. The end result should look like a well-maintained lawn.

Anyway, it was a total revelation to me. I still don't know if they made the cook stop using dill or if they just suggested that he use less and he was offended. Or maybe he really did run out. After all, we left from Belgium and not Riga.

[kerouac2]

I took advantage of our new half day in Hanko to get more photos for my little photo report about the place. I got much better photos this time.

Then of course, I walked back to the port trying to respect the important information on the signs.



At the gate, there was also this sign, easier to comprehend.

Port security was interesting. The first time, nobody paid the least bit of attention to me coming or going. Herman said the same, and we were both surprised that you could enter and walk about a major international port without anybody checking on whether you should be there or not. Today was different. The guy at the gate asked me where I was going but was satisfied when I said I was a passenger on the Pulpca. "Oh, okay." But as I approached the ship, a security vehicle drove up to question me. What was I doing there? Was I lost? "You look lost." I explained, and I was admonished for not wearing a security vest. "Next time!" he ordered. Okay fine, next time. And naturally I would never take any photos of the port, since it is clearly forbidden.

There are the cabin windows again, under the bridge and the lifeboat.




I had lunch alone today. It started with mushroom soup. Every day, the soup contained yesterday's leftovers, little cubes of meat, chopped vegetables. Good for them, not to waste it.



The main course was this meatball the size of a tennis ball and this other stuff. The greens under the egg were not spinach. I still don't know.









On the crew bulletin board, both Herman and I had read this and laughed about how not a single person respected it. Somebody must have seen us, because the notice disappeared.



Gotta keep swabbing those decks! A seagull might have crapped somewhere.