Happy Thanksgiving! (11/26)

Eurodam News Blog is taking a well-deserved break over the four-day Thanksgiving holiday observed in the United States. We will return Monday, Dec. 1, with more news and info about Eurodam, its guests and crew.

More Kudos from Guests (11/26)

Hello,

We just sailed on the E from Nov.15-22. This was our fourth cruise with HAL and wanted to say how much we enjoyed the new ship and her crew. I’m up early this morning because I missed the wonderful beds and the elegant bedding that tucked me in every night. HAL in my opinion is top of the line and is worth every penny.

Have you guys ever thought of staying over night at Half Moon Cay? Most passengers like me think this island is the best stop of all you have to offer! I think an overnight stay with a huge beach party at night, leave the next afternoon would be wonderful! Or make two trips to Half Moon and leave off one of the other ports, one stop going and one stop back to just relax.

To all the wonderful crew we thank you and will be returning. You need to contract Dr. Justin Miller for as long as you can, the man is a genius!

Youvonna, Michael and Josh Bowman

Burlington, North Carolina

Captain’s Log: Tuesday, Nov. 25, San Juan

Captain Jonathan Mercer

We are now safely docked in this beautiful natural harbour, nestling under the ‘heights’ on which stand the Spanish fortifications and the ‘old’ town.

We have, in terms of weather, had an eventful 48 hours since leaving Port Everglades on Saturday. Having docked in a ‘nor’easter’, it had shown no signs of abating on departure, and our ‘Thanksgiving’ guests experienced the motion of the ocean as soon as we started our transit of the Straits of Florida.

This week has seen an unfortunate combination of weather patterns — a high-pressure area building over the southeastern U.S., a low-pressure area over the eastern seaboard and another low-pressure area over the Tropical Atlantic.

The combination of the three has resulted in our weather being more than one would wish for. The high pressure and the Atlantic low combined to give us very strong northeasterly winds and the eastern seaboard low is responsible for a steep Atlantic swell of around 12 feet. As most of our courses towards Grand Turk and later, San Juan, are generally southeast, this resulted in both wind and waves being on our port beam and our stabilisers having to work overtime.

Despite my optimism, the weather had shown no signs of abating when we arrived off Grand Turk Monday morning. A massive swell was funnelling down between Grand Turk and the islands, and the wind was blowing — 40 knots on average — although we experienced gusts nearer 50 knots.

During our calls at Grand Turk, I have experienced a drop or shift in the wind when nearer the pier itself and to this end, we made three close ‘passes’ of the pier. ‘Close’ being a prudent distance off, the sight of the surf and swell, breaking on Grand Turk itself and the shallow reefs to the south, was enough to keep any mariner wary of getting too close.

After two hours of waiting off the island, in the hope of an easing of the conditions, I reluctantly made the decision to cancel our call. If you read the blog regularly, you are aware of the ‘E’s parameters for wind, and this was way more than anything she could handle.

As we made our way around the north of the island, my time was taken in making reports to our corporate office and speaking to our agent in San Juan. It was my intention to dock there as soon as possible, rather than wait for our scheduled arrival, the reason being two-fold. A guest needed medical attention and although our excellent medical staff are extremely capable, this was a case that needed equipment we do not possess, and secondly, I had no wish to subject our guests and crew to the movement we were experiencing any longer than was necessary.

So we wound the ‘E’ up and, making over 21 knots, (in the weather conditions I did not want to ‘open her up’ as that would have been more uncomfortable), headed for San Juan.

The wind only abated when we neared the approaches to the port and even then was still around 25 knots. The swell and conditions were such that I advised the pilot that I would embark him inside the harbour, trying to do so outside would have been unsafe for him, so he boarded as we entered the buoyed channel, under the lee of the Old Town and El Morro.

So, at 2:30 in the morning, we docked at #4 pier west. Medical teams and an ambulance were there on arrival and we disembarked our guest to the hospital.

The Customs and Border Protection officers had kindly allowed us to conduct this exercise without going through clearance procedures and having done so, we ‘shut up shop’, closing our break doors until later that morning, when they would formally clear us and our guests could go ashore and enjoy Puerto Rico. Just as importantly, my officers and crew could get some rest, as they had had a busy few hours.

Anniversary: 18 Cruises in 20 Years

Dee Ann Nevares (Mariner #009874348) and husband of 41 years, Alberto C. Nevares (Mariner #009874330), sent us this photo and note:

We sail Nov. 29, 2008, with HAL again! Twenty years ago we started on the Noordam in 1988, and our 18th cruise will be on the new Eurodam. We have enjoyed this journey and hope to spend another 20 years and 18 cruises with you.

Embarkation Party, Saturday, Nov. 22

We boarded Eurodam last Saturday to escort a video crew from the Travel Channel and took a moment to shoot a little video of our own. Here is the embarkation party, fueled by the HAL-Cats playing reggae music with a pool full of youngsters. Since it is the week of the Thanksgiving holiday in the United States, it appeared that quite a few families decided to let Holland America cook the turkey and pumpkin pie this year. Indeed, we were told there were 180 kids on board for this sailing.

Symbol of Friendship on Grand Turk

Captain Mercer sent us this picture from Grand Turk of Friendship 7, astronaut John Glenn’s space capsule from the Mercury Space Program. Glenn, the first American to orbit earth, splashed down in Grand Turk waters Feb. 20, 1962 — back in the days when spacecraft returned to earth via parachute. In those days Grand Turk had a strong NASA and Air Force presence and he was brought to the island for a medical checkup and post flight debriefing.

In the early years of the space program Grand Turk was a major missile and space tracking station supporting the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo space programs. Glenn’s three orbits of the earth were tracked from Grand Turk, and information was sent to Cape Canaveral, Fla. The Grand Turk Island tracking station officially closed down Feb. 29, 1984, becoming obsolete due to advances in space technology — something the station actually helped to achieve — and was replaced by data-gathering satellites.

Although Eurodam was supposed to call at Grand Turk today, we just heard from Captain Mercer that the ship was unable to dock there due to 40-knot-plus winds and a Force 8 gale.

Photo courtesy of Jonathan Mercer

Meet the Bridge Team

From left: Captain Jonathan Mercer, Third Officer Martyn Kelly, First Officer Dan Wardle, Second Officer Andy Richardson, Fourth Officer ‘Ollie’ Chasteauneuff, Chief Officer Emeil de Vries, Cadet Stevens Melchoir, Second Officer Sean Gill, Fourth Officer Jordan Low and Third Officer Jordi van Sikkelerus.

Third Officer Martyn Kelly looks through the binoculars while transiting the ‘Narrows’ in San Juan.

Halloween at the van Donselaars

Our vacation is all about Jeroen tackling “The Honey-Do List,” as Captain Mercer calls it. These are all of the retrofit home enhancements that need to be done in the house but not necessarily all projects are at the request of “the honey.”

Moreover, in a house less than a year old, we are attempting to get it ready for the Dutch family members that are flying over for Christmas. I am so fortunate that Jeroen is not only a navigator, he is the electrician, the plumber, the tile setter and the IT techie with about five projects going on simultaneously.

Jeroen took a break from his tools to help with a project that was not on his Honey-Do List and not something that he was overly excited about, unlike myself. Carving pumpkins has always been a fun family project for me growing up, but for a Dutchman who has hardly ever carved pumpkins, the thought of removing pumpkins seeds and stringy pumpkin guts was not his idea of a fun pre-Halloween evening.

I started carving using a traditional knife, cutting out the top, then the eyes, etc. Then I heard what sounded like a drill noise coming up from the basement and becoming louder as he approached upstairs where I was pumpkin carving. With a revving electric drill in hand he started to “drill-carve” his own unique pumpkins! I exclaimed he was a “cheater,” albeit I have to admit it was far less arduous than my manual work and safer, too, as six small knife cuts on my hands testified.

When we finished carving and drilling, we placed the finished jack-o-lanterns on the front porch and lit them up with flameless candles that have the same effect as real candles, flickering and all. They were quite a hit with the trick-or-treaters and the neighborhood kids.

As a Dutchman living in the U.S., and celebrating traditions he is not accustomed to, I really admire Jeroen for approaching our strange customs with his Dutch gusto and his American drill!

San Juan Plaque Exchange

Eurodam is calling at San Juan, Puerto Rico, today. When the ship made its maiden call there Oct. 28 the traditional plaque exchange took place on board. We know the photos are a bit tardy, but better late than never!

Maria Mendez, deputy director of the Port Authority of San Juan (representing the governor) and Captain Mercer.

Marijo Laborae, deputy director of Puerto Rico Tourism, and Captain Mercer.

Donato Alvarez, vice president of Continental Shipping (the port agent), and Captain Mercer.

Captain’s Log: How I Became Master

Sundays usually provide us with time to ‘catch our breath’ after the turnaround day and all that it involves. It’s time to catch up on paperwork and is (almost) meeting-free. I had a 9 o’clock ‘meet the Captain’ in the Crow’s Nest, which is always enjoyable for me.

One question that frequently pops up in my ‘meet the Captain’ sessions is how does one become a captain. It got me thinking that if this question is so frequent, then maybe it ought to be a blog post.

My path to command is not untypical of someone of my generation, however, over the years, the certification process has developed, (or changed). Younger, up-and-coming officers have various paths they can follow to achieve the same result. One thing still common to all of us in my generation is that beautiful piece of leather-bound vellum from the Department of Transport — my Masters Ticket, or licence. Back in 1995, they changed even this, bringing a common format to all licences, or CoC, so I now carry with me my ‘old’ original, my ‘new’ 1995 version and a Dutch licence, which entitles me to command a Dutch-flagged vessel.

My training started with me being indentured to a British shipping company, one with hundreds of years of history, an honourable war record, (if having 60 percent of their vessels sunk and their crews killed by enemy action can be called ‘honourable’), a reputation of being second-to-none and 84 ships under their flag.

I joined as a cadet and in those days, one had to ‘meet the Board’, which entailed a trip to London and the Head Office, looking down an enormously long table surrounded by gentlemen dressed in tailor-made suits, all of which was very imposing to a 19 year-old. Obviously satisfied with me, I then was sent to a sea-school, or in my case, the School of Navigation, Warsash, (which is near Southampton, England). The school was very regimented; we had 6 o’clock morning runs and once a month had to stand guard-duty at the main gates, dressed in full uniform, with gaiters and webbing belts and a Lee-Enfield .303 rifle, (unloaded). Later on in life I recall that it was just as well it had no bullets, heaven knows what we would have got up to had we had a full magazine.

I was at the school for a year, learning everything that one would expect, (except how to stop an infiltrator with an unloaded rifle). Navigation, stability, electronics, seamanship, physics, chemistry — an endless list. I well remember the ‘etiquette’ classes and in particular the ‘dance’ lessons, for this involved young ladies from the local private school attending, (the school at that time was all-male, females just didn’t go to sea in those days). The evening was anticipated with relish for days ahead and was always fun, a formal dinner followed by the lessons themselves, all of us with two left feet, however, the fact that we had ladies, in evening dress and smelling like roses, more than overcame any ‘stumbling’. Chaperones watched us like hawks, ‘corralling’ any wayward ‘strays’ back into the fold. ☺

Clan Sutherland, my first ship.

After a year, I went to sea. The company had several ‘cadet’ ships, 12-passenger cargo ships, converted to take cadets and a Training Officer to sea. Mine was the “Clan Sutherland”, a beautiful steamship, built in 1950, with a specialised heavy-lift ‘Stulken’ derrick, with which we could lift 165-tonne weights, (locomotives and cracking-plants for refineries were our most common cargoes), apart from cargo holds for general cargo. I well remember joining her in King George V dock in London, so busy that ships were double-banked (alongside each other). Now, when you fly in to London City airport, it is a wasteland, the buildings gone, rubble now.

My first ‘voyage’ was to Hull, on the east coast of England, in a storm no less and my first experience of seasickness. We then sailed to South Africa and East Africa, before going to the Mediterranean and then back again, 18 months in total. I and my fellow cadets had the time of our lives while learning everything there was to know about life at sea while continuing our formal training under our Training Officer. I could write a whole book about that one voyage, it’s as clear to me as if it were yesterday and the most wonderful experience.

Constance Bowater

After some leave, I returned to sea, this time on a smaller ship, the “Constance Bowater”. She specialised in carrying paper products, be it newsprint, lumber or anything associated with the paper industry. It was on her that I ran out of Corner Brook, in Newfoundland, to the Great Lakes and, if you read the blog, it was there I returned, on the ‘E’, some 30 years later, little did I know then that I would command such a massive vessel. Had I known, I might have had second thoughts on my chosen career ☺

I returned to Warsash for six months, for my ‘mid-cadet-release’ period, basically brushing-up on what I had already learned and preparing for my first ‘ticket’ (licence) exam. Then back to sea. One had to obtain ‘sea-time’ before one went to college, studied for six months and then took the exam, a weeklong process, overseen by the Department of Transport and rigorous in its method. It also involved an ‘oral’ examination from a DoT examiner, grilling you for what seemed like hours on every aspect required of us. I can still remember the elation of holding that licence in my hand.

My first watch was on the “Clan Grant”, out of London, bound for East Africa and later it transpired, India. I took over the watch near Dover, England, with ships coming at me from every direction, and although we only managed only 14 knots, I wished it were 13 knots less! I left the bridge that night both exhausted and elated.

Good Hope Castle

I had three years of sea-time to log before I could sit for the next exam, the ‘First Mate’ ticket. My travels took me mainly to South Africa, Union Castle line was part of our group and then ran the ‘Mail’ boats, or a scheduled run with several ships, each leaving Southampton, England, on a Friday and returning five weeks and two days later. The majority were passenger ships, on which I spent some time. Two others were smaller, very fast cargo ships and it was on these that I mainly served and incidentally, had the dubious distinction of abandoning into a lifeboat, following a fire, which we fought for 24 hours.

Then, back to college for six months and sitting for my ‘First Mate’s’ licence. More sea-time was required before I could sit for my ‘Masters’ licence; more travelling around the world, this time on container ships and bulk carriers, until in 1979, I sat for the exam. My hands were shaking the day I received the leather-bound document, inscribed with beautiful scrolling, entitling me to command a vessel of any size, anywhere in the world.

Of course, it is unlikely that one would be given command of a huge cruise or passenger vessel at so ‘tender’ an age. By 1979, the 84 ships of the fleet had dwindled to a mere few. Containerisation and the fuel crises, (yes even that long ago), had taken its toll. I reluctantly left and joined a company operating ferries out of Southern England. I had time nearer home and the salary was good. I took a demotion to go there, however, it was such fun.

Very soon after my joining, I had the opportunity of ship-handling, the very thrill of it. This continued throughout my time. It was without doubt the very best training one could receive, in all weathers — rain, fog, gales — the like of which could be so severe that other vessels would not even try to dock.

It all culminated in my being promoted to Master in 1987 and, like that first-ever bridge watch, is as clear as if it were yesterday. The one item I remember above all else was the fact that this time, there wasn’t a man standing beside mw with four stripes, to whom you could devolve responsibility, it was you and you alone who bore that heavy burden.

Photos courtesy of Jonathan Mercer.