I'm not going to even attempt to describe it, but needless to say my hiding place was not the greatest, I was soon found and punishment was administered.
King Neptune and his wife, who for some reason was dressed like a penguin, waiting for the fun to start
The vat of kitchen scraps that had been stewing and fermenting for a week or so
The Judge - charges against me were tenuous to say the least
Slimy, pungent and generally disgusting
Clearly a career high point
Never have I looked more attractive
Still it could have been worse - Carl, who was last to be found, got the remains of the concoction
Little to write about today so I will try to keep ramblings
to a minimum and instead treat you to a few photos. I believe we crossed the line (equator)
sometime in the early hours of Friday morning, but the ceremony is to be held
later today - I am less than thrilled by the prospect of this charming seafaring
tradition and what it means for me! On the plus side,
there will be a BBQ to celebrate the occasion and the food promises to be
truly delicious. Whether this will make
up for my hair smelling like mouldy fish for the next week (if rumours are to
be believed) remains to be seen. In fact
I crafted the burgers for the BBQ with my own fair hands, having now ventured
into the galley for some cooking lessons pre-arrival in South Georgia. If all goes to plan, today I will be
foregoing the early morning rowing (finally managed sub-21mins yesterday -
woohoo!) in order to learn to make bread - probably a more useful life skill.
The world's biggest infinity pool - no swimming allowed!
Yesterday saw the arrival of frigate birds which are pretty
awesome creatures - absolutely massive and they glide gracefully alongside the ship for hours,
occasionally trying (succeeding intermittently) to land on the mast. The gannets were also out in force and were
looking quite delightful against the blue sky. I'm not much of a wildlife photographer (rather lacking in the required levels of
patience sadly) but I did bring out a ridiculously oversized
lens so thought I should at least give it a go - it
was very windy and they did keep moving about which I found most unhelpful, but I eventually managed to get a couple of acceptable shots.
This one has a very good beady eye
In other exciting news I have finally got around to checking
the x-ray kit works. It does and I have
a reasonably satisfactory picture of my hand to show for my efforts - complete
with grubby finger prints in the bottom left corner. I have an awful lot of chemicals for
developing x-rays in the surgery so I may have a think about other things that
might look good on the inside.
So, to set the scene, this is the window in my cabin.
Not the best view on the ship
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You might say this is a rubbish window. No view of the sea or sky, just an orange lifeboat to look at. However, this is not a rubbish window, and the reason for this is the little green sign above it.
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Now, just say you were on a ship for a month with fairly limited options for entertainment. It is possible that you might decide one day that you wanted to pretend you were a ninja for an evening, and wander stealth-like around the ship in the dark without anyone knowing what you were doing. If you wanted to do this, you would need a method for getting outside without passing through one of the doors that are all either near people's bedrooms or a bar. What you would need is a window in your cabin that is big enough to climb through. Not such a rubbish window now eh? Since you only want to do the stealth-like wandering bit of being a ninja and not the killing people bit, you would need slightly different kit (I would suggest forgoing the G&T in favour of Black Sheep which is considerably more portable but also quite delicious). Tempting as it is to dress completely in black, I would recommend not doing this if you are passing through the tropics. Should you meet anyone whilst wearing a black polo neck they will probably be a bit concerned about your mental health - not ideal when you have to spend several more weeks stuck on a ship with them.
Supplies for evening excursions
Anyway, if you were to wander up to the Monkey Island and open the Black Sheep and look up at the sky with clouds whizzing past and occasionally opening up enough to allow the moon to shine through and maybe a few stars to twinkle, I suspect you would agree that there are few better ways to spend an evening. I would also suggest that if you were to put a bit of Elton John, Tiny Dancer on the i-pod it is VERY important to remember that there may well be cameras on the Monkey Island BEFORE you start any twirling around.
Task for today: check camera situation to ensure no one thinks I'm a crazy person.
I am going to have to work on my night time photography skills
The monkey island during the day (as in the grey bit at the bottom of the photo not the white masts sitting on the monkey island which I am not allowed to go near)
In non-ninja related news, there have been many, many flying fish leaping out of the water and flying really quite considerable distances before diving back in with a splash. I would like to put up a picture but I had to google them to see what they look like close up as they are tricky little fellows and not easy to catch on camera. We also had another drill today which means I got to put on a hard hat, orange boiler suit and steel toe-capped boots before heading out to my muster point. Since today was a fire drill, a smoke machine had been set off in one of the front holds and a crew member was reported missing. The remaining crew then had to head in wearing breathing apparatus to drag the 'body' out while others sorted out fire hoses, closed vents, isolated stuff etc. Luckily I don't have to get involved with the rescue side of things (wearing fire-fighting kit in the tropics looks very, very hot). I just have to wait outside with my medical bag and assistants, who have brought the stretcher, until the casualty is brought to me. There is then a bit of time to discuss how we would manage the casualty if this happened in real life before heading up to The Bridge for a debrief. From my very inexperienced point of view it all looked most impressive and seemed to be managed extremely efficiently by the officers and crew - I guess that is the point of twice weekly drills though!
You would think that, with on average one medical consultation a day, I would have plenty of time to be writing about my comings and goings at sea. Not so; for I am finding myself remarkably busy these days. Admittedly this is mostly eating and drinking tea. I am starting to get into a bit of a routine, which starts at 0550 (yes that is correct) when I get up to go to the gym. The gym is on Tween Deck which is three decks below where I live (Boat Deck) and is very warm . Even at 6am. Even with air conditioning. Anyway, I am in the process of rekindling a love of rowing machines, by which I mean I'm seeing if I can get significantly quicker at rowing 5km over the course of the passage. There is little competition for the rowing machine at this time in the morning and no one to see me turn fluorescent pink. Ideal. After spending a while in the shower trying to tone down the pinkness, breakfast is at 0715. Then I can amuse myself until 1000 when it is time for 'smoko' which I think is sea terminology (though it could be BAS terminology) for a morning break. This takes place up on The Bridge and means I can find out approximately where we are in the world (somewhere fairly close to the Canary Islands I believe). Then it's back to finding ways to occupy myself until 1200 when it is lunchtime. Today I discovered that liver can actually be quite delicious. I'm left to my own devices until 1500 when it's back to The Bridge for afternoon smoko - damn I love fig rolls! Finally a bit more work until 1800 when I have my one and only drink of the day (24 hr on call and all that) in the Officers' Lounge, followed by dinner at 1830. Rather surprisingly I discovered today that I have in fact lost weight since joining the ship. I can only think this is down to energy burned trying to keep myself upright, since it is certainly not due to any self restraint exhibited on my part when it comes to the daily menu.
Just a picture to show how sunny and lovely it's been
The view out of my back door in the surgery
In between the various food and tea breaks today I have been making myself vaguely useful by helping sort out 'the bond.' The bond seems to refer to the alcohol store on the ship, and in our case, this not only means the supply for the ship but also all the bases (except Halley) for the season. That means quite a lot of boxes, which I have been helping to shift around in order to create some semblance of order. This was surprisingly enjoyable, a bit like a weights session in the gym, only way more interesting as I had someone to talk to, and the stacking up bit was like a 3D version of tetris with added danger due to the weird twisty rocky movement that the ship has been favouring all day. Also, I got to play with one of those brown tape dispensers (which comes in a close second to the date stamps you get in libraries in the list of work-related tools that I am inexplicably fascinated by). Anyway, I was also rewarded with not one, but two packets of dry roasted peanuts for my efforts which made for a most successful day.
Hmmm there are a few other things to mention but I have no doubt people will get decidedly bored if I twitter on for too long. The salient points are:
1) We saw dolphins off the port bow - lots of leaping out of the water and general dolphin wonderfulness but no pictures as they weren’t that close
2) We passed very close to Madeira (sadly not close enough to get cake)
3) I had a tour of the engine room which is massive, and very confusing, and not somewhere I should ever be allowed to go unless I am closely accompanied by someone wearing a boiler suit. Most excitingly the control room looks like something out of a Bond film from the 70s and I am now considering the possibility of getting a long haired white cat on board
Madeira - about 5 miles away I think
Engine control room - if only the chief engineer looked more like a James Bond villain and less like my dad!
Well, I've been on the ship for a week now and so far it's been really quite enjoyable. I am slowly realising how much there is to learn about life at sea and every day is most definitely a school day at the moment. The week started off well, with some unexpected shore leave in Portsmouth giving me the opportunity to say goodbye to my parents properly for the final time (and involve them in lots of last minute pre-departure admin tasks because, as usual, I was more than a little disorganised). We left Portsmouth on the 12th October and, if all goes to plan, we will not set foot on solid ground until we arrive in Stanley (Falkland Islands) in a month's time. The Bay of Biscay lived up to its reputation and we had an interesting couple of days of rocking and rolling in all directions which made sleeping tricky (for me at least). Since I haven't suffered the slightest hint of sea sickness I decided to brave life without drugs a couple of days ago and so far all appears to be going well. Unfortunately I haven't adapted completely to life at sea and definitely need to work on looking cool and nonchalant while wandering around the ship when it is rolling 20 degrees to either side! I have yet to actually fall over but there has been a lot of staggering and struggling to get doors open and little chance of me hiding the fact that I have spent very little time at sea before. The crew are quick to inform me that the rolling experienced so far is really very mild in comparison to records from previous years. However, as I slide around my bedroom on my chair, whilst trying to type on my laptop (which is also sliding around the desk) with the contents of my cupboards making loud bids for freedom at regular intervals, I feel this is challenge enough for me right now. There are certain advantages to the constant movement and I suspect I will be keeping my room much tidier than usual, rather than run the risk of losing prized possessions thanks to a particularly brutal swell and wave combination - bungees are fast becoming my new best friend.
Big naval ship of some kind on a sunny day in Portsmouth
Portsmouth looking rather nice as we head out into open water
I have been slowly working my way through the medical kit on the ship, trying to work out which of the many cupboards, drawers, lockers and under-seat storage my predecessors have decided use for what. Unfortunately several years worth of different doctors, with different interests and different ideas means that this is turning out to be a colossal task and I am starting to feel a little overwhelmed by it all! In order to have a break from the bandages, cannulas, bags of fluid and a million other things that keep hurling themselves at me every time I open a cupboard door, I decided to see whether some of the kit is actually working by testing it on myself. I am happy to report that I am not having a heart attack, am not anaemic, appear to have a normal blood pressure and oxygen saturations (although a worryingly quick pulse for no apparent reason) but apparently I am diabetic.......this I have decided to ignore for now, in the hope that by tomorrow the machine will have magically fixed itself. I am also feeling rather proud of myself, having successfully sterilised a pair of scissors. Currently I have absolutely no need whatsoever for a pair of sterilised scissors but the autoclave machine has been daring me to have a go on it for the last week and today was the day I took up the challenge. Having never seen or used an autoclave before, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect (but I'm a girl and therefore felt no shame in consulting the instruction manual first). It made a lot of noise, created a lot of steam, had lots of flashing LEDs and, at one point, caused me to leave the room for fear I was about to be attacked by a jet of boiling water. However, at the end of 20 minutes, when I opened the machine, the dot had turned from yellow to purple and I felt (albeit briefly) like I had reached the pinnacle of my medical career. I celebrated with a gin and tonic and a steak. So far so good for life at sea.....
Pictures of the ship have been requested - this is the back bit with lots of stuff on it
The officers' lounge - well stocked with gin and tonic
So, off again to pastures new and cold.I will attempt to keep a more thorough record
of my adventures this time, having now confirmed that my memory is as bad as I
suspected as many thoughts and memories of Tanzania fluttered out of my
mind to be replaced by important information from the world of celebrity – how
much has Kate Middleton spent on her wardrobe this year? (considerably more
than me), the real reason Katie left Tom (he’s pretty weird) and how to lose
those extra 2lb (eat less, do more exercise – damn those magazines are good).Unfortunately I also now know what TOWIE is,
but luckily I have 18 months to forget this.
View from Plymouth balcony
I’m now ensconced in what will be my cabin for the next 4
months surrounded by a lot of half unpacked bags and a road bike on a turbo
trainer (how long will the novelty last I wonder).I’ve spent the last 5 months in Plymouth
living in the best house in the world ever (see picture) while learning to be
the doctor equivalent of a jack of all trades and master of none.If I’m being honest this probably isn’t what
I’d be looking for in a doctor treating me but since I will, at times, be the
only doctor for a few hundred miles, there will be little choice in the
matter.I suspect that at some point I
will have to have a conversation along the lines of:
“So you’re good at this then?”
“well....”
“Have you at least done it before?”
“I think we should concentrate more on the fact that there
really isn’t another option and less on my previous experience of taking teeth
out.”
“But have you at least taken teeth out before?”
“Technically?Yes.In a human?No.But I totally rocked at getting them out of a dead pig (not entirely
true) and their teeth have really, really long roots!Like I said, best option right now so it’s
probably best if we just get on with it.”
Practising dental anaesthetics on each other
Pig dentistry
In reality, it's not quite as gung-ho as all that, and all the
doctors working at British Antarctic Survey bases or on the ships are supported
by a number of senior doctors and dentists back in the UK.Advice and support (i.e. hand holding via the
telephone) is easily available for any challenging cases and medical and dental
screening is carried out on everyone heading South.My medical workload so far has been minimal
and has mainly involved pre-emptivelyprescribing myself an eclectic combination of clinically proven seasickness
remedies alongside some hokum stuff involving ginger and silly looking wrist
bands (highly successful so far).I have
also spent a lot of time on my knees scrubbing the floor of the surgery in the
vain hope of making it look less grubby.I have pretty much failed at this (damn non-slip flooring) but I have
done a lot of sorting and ordering of medical provisions which has made the
slightly OCD part of me very happy.More
about ship life to come but a couple of pictures for now.
My cabin (made to look remarkably spacious by the fish-eye lens!)
Ship surgery - all clean and tidy
Immingham dock just prior to departure
Early morning departure through what initially appeared to be an impossibly narrow channel
