The orange ship that came in...

I have a friend, and a minuscule part of who he is, is that he works as an Operations Superintendant for an international freight shipping company. He had promised me a clandestine tour of his world, and one Monday night it came to be. Michael-Angel-Oh (MAO) had long since earmarked Captain Fink’s vessel for this very occasion.
I had to haul out my ill-matched brown Doc Marten-come-safety shoes – the first pair of shoes I bought during my stint in the UK in 1999. I received a massive discount as one shoe is significantly paler than the other thanks to time well spent on display in the shop window!
Anyway, I digress, as I do.
MAO kindly collected me in his military green Tow-Yoda and off we went, port- ward. Security was pretty tight. A ship chandler friend had loaned MAO his wife’s reflector vest, hard hat and ID card for me to use. I practiced my sham’s confidence in the make-up mirror, just in case, as I conjured up some positive energy following a decidedly blue first day of the week.
The port of Durban operates 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, which means that there is a constant carnival of ships in and out of the harbour, including some of the world's most gargantuan vessels. We had to park at a pier security station and wait for a commuting bus to take us to the ships. A few security stops later, with more than just one breathalyzer included, we entered our own little Brobdingnag, and I felt just like a Lego-man!
The place was bustling with activity, containers being lifted and hoisted onto the vessels by way of gantry cranes or ‘derricks’ to meet carefully calculated stowage plans. First stop was at the side and rear of the ship to see the divers emerging from a so-called underwater survey. Then up the derriere-tightening ladder, employing the age-old axiom of bygone seafarers: "One hand for the ship, one hand for yourself."
Pegging away through yet another security check, we made our way to the ship’s office. Upon entering, I heard a feisty young lady hurl out a cuss word, in German accent, to the failing agent on the other end. “I hope you lose your job, you lazy bastard!” she added finally before slamming down the receiver. MAO greeted her, and she instantly and visibly relaxed as they embraced. “Ah, Michael. Sheet. What a lot of Sheet...” I warmed to Xenia instantly, and not just because this 5-foot-something gal with great skin swore like a sailor! She just seemed so incredibly real, and real is sincere. I surveyed the premises, taking special note of the machines, and was bemused to lay eyes on a storage box containing ‘stiffy diskettes’! Shortly afterwards, Captain Fink arrived. Despite MAO’s many descriptive accolades, I was still pleasantly surprised to meet Katarina. A tall, slender, well-groomed but totally undecorated ship’s Captain, dressed in men’s garb, but not lacking one iota of femininity in its wake. She magically oozed innocence and fragility and confidence and authority, all at the same time.
They had an important meeting to conduct initially, so MAO took me for a time-biding shufti on the orange deck. The constant drone aboard the vessel increased in volume as I realized that most of it was attributed to the vast array of refrigerated containers storing perishables.
One lap done, after a quick Titanic pose (because we could), and a wave to the curious attendant on a fuel barge, we made our way back to the office. I loitered in the passageways scanning everything around me whilst we waited for attention. I read with interest a notice on waste management, with BOLD (IMPORTANT) lines emphasizing the importance of separating the plastic / packaging from the food waste before disposing of the food waste into the ocean. I was delighted to read this, considering that I, too, have ended up, as most things do, in the waste industry.
It seemed that the feeling was mutual when Xenia offered to escort me to the ship’s control room. It was probably the closest I was to ever get to its Star Wars counterpart. And the chair... What a chair! I don’t believe I have ever sat in a chair more comfortable. We jabbered some, until Captain Fink was ready to take MAO and me to their dining room for some Abendbrot.
Might I add, at this point, that the experience on board remains a sharp contrast to the rough and industrial outward appearance a container ship tends to project. The kitchen was modest but cosy, with a large round table and rotating serving platter. We had several breads, cold meats and cheeses to choose from, not to mention a healthy choice of condiments and other culinary companions like Gherkins and pickled onions. Thrown back with Naartjie juice, bottled water and animated conversation, the experience matured beautifully. From there we moved on to the Captain’s cabin, where she showed us her recently captured photo albums with humble pride. I was interested to learn that the crew on a freight liner spend at least 3-4 months at a time on the vessel. I tried to imagine what it would feel like. Katarina shared with us her personal dream-clincher: she had finally booked a holiday at the Galapagos Islands, home to one of her favourite creatures: the blue-footed booby! As much as we would have loved to have stayed longer, it became time to call it a night, and so we began to mobilize.
We did not leave empty-handed, either. Katarina presented us each with 2 slabs of Rittersport chocolate as a farewell gift, masterfully combined with a warm hug goodbye. We disembarked and made our way to the bus stop, not without turning around and saluting our new friend who had, by then, already become an indiscernible, warm beige dot on a cold, orange expanse.
Although pleased to return home for a much needed hobnob with my Cloud Nine mattress, I felt satisfied, and lip-smackingly so! Life scuttles by mercilessly, and it’s hard to ‘get away’ most of the time... but this brief school-night stint in a different world made me feel as though I had packed in some quality living...