Day 13
Here we are on Sunday 22 January, two days away from our destination of Walvis Bay. We moved the clocks forward another hour early this morning, so we are now on Bravo time i.e. two hours ahead of you on GMT
Well this is a bit much. It is overcast and the temperature is just 24ºC, making it feel quite cool outside in the wind. At least one passenger (I promised not to reveal her name) has started to gripe about the weather again. Although the wind remains at Force 4 from the SE, the sea is Moderate and there is a definite swell causing us to pitch a little. We are still heading SE and are about 250 nm from the Namibian coast. ETA for Walvis Bay is 0500B on Tuesday 24 January.
Last night we had the roast duck, flambéed and carved at our table, and afterwards headed for the theatre to hear an opera singer. We got the timing a bit wrong, and the show had already started, so we hovered at the back, but we didn’t enjoy it enough to stay. As you know, opera is not really our forte (unless you count Gilbert & Sullivan). Fortunately, while we were in the fore ends (as we sailors say) we took the opportunity to indulge in an exciting game of Scrabble (which, of course, Jane won). There are two passageways that run either side of the main theatre, low down against the ship’s side, with large windows virtually at waterline level – see how there are no limits to the excitement offered by shipboard life. Here, there are games and jigsaw tables set out for passengers to use. We have tried several times to bag the Scrabble game, but each time someone has got there before us and we had begun to suspect foul play; this time, at 2100, we were successful. As we played, the dark sea and bow wave rolled past the window next to us, creating a surreal backdrop. We knew that if we persisted we would succeed in the end. Next time we may have a bash at the jigsaw.
Church service in the theatre this morning, conducted by the Captain. It was a well-attended, pleasantly short service with good rousing hymns and no sermon. He concluded the proceedings by informing us, straight-faced, that the collection on leaving would be donated to a range of seamen’s charities devoted to the care of old girlfriends of sailors in ports throughout the world, and there were many women to look after.
Our pathologist visiting lecturer gave a further talk to conclude the forenoon, this time on Near Death Experiences (NDE). Looking at the rest of the audience I reckon most of us fitted the bill, but the talk proved to be fascinating. NDE is, by now, well-documented and there have been well over 3,000 recorded instances throughout the world. All have common elements and are independent of religious belief (or absence of any), nationality, culture, race or ethnicity. I won’t go into the details now, as I want to have something to bore you with when we next get together. Suffice it to say that there is a great deal that has not yet been explained in our lives today.
Day 13, and we do not disembark until Day 39, 18 February, in Melbourne. Most people seem to be getting off in Cape Town, so we are unusual in going further. I do not know how many people are doing the full round trip, but it may only be a dozen or so. I hope the weather improves.
Day 14
Monday 23 January. Well that’s it. We want our money back. The sky is overcast and the air temperature is only 22ºC. With us heading directly into a Force 6 and at our speed of 17 knots, the relative wind across the deck is so considerable that the uppermost deck, Deck 14, is out of bounds. We are starting to get a bit more of a swell now, with catspaws forming on the crests, and the ship is starting to pitch slowly in what is now a Moderate to Rough sea. Neither the pitch nor the swell are as bad as I have been used to elsewhere in the Atlantic, but the change is noticeable. Jane had to be given a direct order not to wear her fleece this morning (she took no notice). The cool feel outside is, of course, because the wind is from a southerly direction, straight off the Southern Ocean and Antarctica: the equivalent of a northerly wind back home.
The Captain has just announced that the Walvis Bay authorities have only just realised, despite the event being 12 months in the planning, that we are due to arrive in the dark at 0430 and this is apparently unacceptable to them. Negotiations are continuing as I write. If we get in later, then it will mess up all the organised trips. We are not going on any trips from here as we consider the place to be not worth visiting. However, we will walk ashore just to say we have been here, even if we get no further than the ship’s draft marks. Immigration looks like it could be a pain, with forms to fill in and interviews to endure.
A final talk today by our visiting lecturer pathologist, this time about Dr Harold Shipman It was very revealing, not least by the fact that Shipman was our most prolific serial killer with a proven score of over 200 people there were hundreds more who were ‘probables’. I had not realised, or I had forgotten, just how many people he had killed. Quite macabre.
Day 15
Tuesday 24 January and we are in Walvis Bay, having arrived at 0630 this morning. Temperature is 17ºC, it is overcast, and there is a slight drizzle. Mrs Shacklepin’s comments are best not written down, but the words ‘cardigan’ and ‘fleece’ are much in evidence. Who comes to Africa and gets cold and drizzle? Clearly, we do.
It is hard to describe this place. It is a very busy industrial port and we are secured against the container jetty, yielding a fine view of, well, containers. The land is very flat and the small town is laid out on a grid system, like an American city. Beyond the town you can see miles of sand dunes and the Namibian desert in all directions. It seems to be a very popular place for shipping, for I counted forty two ships anchored off in the roads, including three oils rigs. It is like preparations for a D Day landing out there. In the harbour there are no less than three floating docks (the most I have ever seen at once is one) and there are ships of all shapes and sizes everywhere. There is some construction going on a sand spit to the south of our berth, and a Chinese dredger is working hard to dredge the area alongside, so perhaps they are hoping to build a cruise terminal over there. Interesting that the dredger is Chinese – presumably the PRC is still trying to get its finger in the pie of Africa. Namibia, by the way, was once German South West Africa before the First World War, when we invaded it from South Africa. It was part of the latter until relatively recently, when it broke away. I am not sure if it is part of the Commonwealth, but English is the official language.
I have just had a text on my iPhone saying, “Welcome to Namibia. Calls to UK cost £1.40 a minute”. Excuse me if I don’t ring for a lengthy conversation.
I took one look at the one-horse town that is Walvis Bay and took the executive decision that we wouldn’t bother to go ashore – no, not even to look at the draft marks. This may sound odd, turning up the opportunity of landing in part of Africa, but immigration required queuing for an hour to get a stamp and this was going to be followed by queuing for a further hour to get a shuttle bus into town. All this for a very ordinary place, with nothing to see, and a deadline to get back onboard of 1630. So we stood on the upper deck and watched the long queues on the jetty waiting for buses, all of which were returning from town with people who clearly had got off, looked around, and got back on again. The sun did come out eventually and briefly, making the township look a little more inviting, but the temperature did not get above 22ºC. We met some people who had been ashore and they confirmed my assessment: long wait to pass immigration, long wait for the buses, pestered all the way into town if you walked, and nothing there. Oh, and they will only accept the Namibian Dollar and you can only change your money in denominations of 50 or above. No Costa or Starbucks, no bars, nothing. I am thinking North Shields without the nice bit that is Tynemouth. Why on earth did we stop here? Heaven knows. It certainly wasn’t for fuel or stores. Some people did go on trips to look at the sand dunes or the seals, but you can do that in Seaton Carew. Ho hum.
We sailed at 1700 (yep, still cool and overcast) and swung round to the south on passage to Cape Town, where we arrive the day after tomorrow. As I write we are pitching and rolling gently in the Atlantic swell while consuming a bottle of champagne kindly donated by some people we met onboard. We have just had the immigration forms for South Africa which everyone – whether going ashore or not – has to complete, along with having to endure a shore-side interview. One wonders if they really want people to visit their country.
Day 16
Wednesday 25 January dawns on a rough sea, wind Force 7 from the SSE and a distinct pitching motion, with the woodwork creaking at every roll. White horses have replaced the catspaws and there is definitely a bit of a chop on. Three decks are partly closed because of the wind, and the temperature outside this morning was 16ºC. I will be surprised if you cannot hear Jane draining down even from where you are. I pointed out that the sun was shining and the sea blue and some of her feeling cold being attributed to the air conditioning, but it didn’t seem to help. On the plus side, that damned cardigan of hers is beginning to wear out because of overuse; on the minus side, I am in deep trouble for not letting her bring more cardigans, submarine sweaters and fleeces, insisting instead that she bring those backless topless strappy things that women wear in the tropics. Oh well, my back is broad and the skin deep, though the scars may be long.
We spent a totally relaxing day, attending nothing, chatting to new shipmates, and reading books. I forgot to mention that we were delighted to return to our cabin the other day to find a special Cunard holdall and a Cunard baseball hat on the bed. Both carry the logo ‘Cunard World Voyage’ and presumably are tributes to our vision and affluence in completing the complete round trip (gloss over the bit where we get off in the middle). Actually they are quite classy and of good quality, though I tend to look a bit of a nerd wearing a baseball hat, and when I wear this one I complete the process.
We are off on an organised tour on arrival in Cape Town tomorrow, seeing the Botanical Gardens, viewing Jackass Penguins, and walking to where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet. The temperature is supposed to be in the high 20s, but we are hedging our bets and the ‘F’ word (‘fleece’) has been mentioned. All the reports of Cape Town are good, so keep your fingers crossed and watch this space.
"A Very Vintage Chap..." 