Another fair greeting from the high seas 30 June 2013

Another fair greeting from the high seas! This week our journey has taken us down the west coast of the magnificent continent that is Africa; we had a very brief stay in Dakar and are now in the Gulf of Guinea just off the Cote d’Ivoire; that’s the Ivory Coast to the non-French speaking amongst you.

Dakar, Senegal

Our visits to Senegal are usually fraught with the vagaries of corrupt customs officials, port inspectors, incompetent stevedores and millions of flies. Well now I’ve discovered the solution; arrive after dark! As we were running slightly ahead of schedule the decision was made to berth us in the evening rather than wait until the morning, so at dusk we picked up our pilot and headed into port. As usual the hoards of officials arrived to inspect the stores, the engine room, the galley, the cargo and anything else they could inspect. However on this occasion, as it was after dark and I’m sure even corrupt customs officials have homes to go to, rather than 2 hours of grief; the papers were presented and signed with minimal fuss and even less distribution of cigarettes and whiskey. I was primed for the usual scrap with the customs officer, my friend Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz, however on this occasion he had little interest in accounting for every drop of lubricating oil and signed the clearance papers with a slight grunt and left with several thousand cigarettes!

Greasing a few palms with cigarettes and whiskey is widely accepted as a means of expediting port clearance, however it seems that officials don’t like to see other officials see them accepting gratuities. And so as we had customs, immigration, port health, port state inspectors and the police all on-board at the same time everybody was looking to each other to take the lead in asking for a gift; however on this occasion nothing was asked for and nothing was given and clearance was issued with a minimum of fuss. In fact my old friend Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz was the only one to leave with his bags full of contraband.

I also discovered that the former Wanderers player El-Hadji Diouf is not only hated by almost every football fan from Liverpool to Glasgow to Middlseboro to Portsmouth (and Blackburn but who cares about Blackburn) but isn’t too popular in his nation of birth, Senegal! Whilst casually discussing Premier League football with a few security guards in the port of Dakar, I mentioned Bolton Wanderers and Diouffy. That didn’t go down too well; I do know a few French expletives (I am well-travelled after all) and the security guard seemed to question his parentage and his sexual preference. We’ll leave it at that then…but best not mention Jay Jay…

And so in a little over 3 hours we discharged our cargo of used trucks and broken down Peugeots and had back loaded a handful of containers and we were on our way again. The cargo we loaded was described as “cargo” on the customs manifest, I have no idea what the “cargo” is but it stinks of rotting fish; can’t wait to get it off in Lome, Togo!

Use By Dates

There is a long-standing joke about ships stores once being stamped as “Only suitable for consumption as animal feed or by seafarers”; and so the chandler in Dakar demonstrated that whilst that was considered a joke, in West Africa it still remains true. We took on a limited amount of stores but almost all of it had little stickers over the original use by dates, with a new date of 31/12/2014. When the chandler was queried he said, “Use by dates are only valid in Europe, nobody in Africa takes any notice of them!” He should tell that to the port health officer in Togo, who inspected every single can, packet and carton last time in Lome and issued a fine for every item that was within 30 days of its “use by date”. Sometime I think the whole lot of these guys are league with each other, one gives whilst the other takes away; it really wouldn’t surprise me if the port health inspector then sells the almost out of date stuff back to the chandler who puts a little sticker over the “use by date”…

On the subject of selling, due to the late arrival in Dakar I was unable to make a buck or two; now I’ve been here a while I’m seeing the opportunities to increase the size of my “Barry wants a new Harley Davidson” fund. In Europe waste oil is rather expensive to dispose of, in Africa they buy it from you; and if you get a few different dealers then the price can be quite nice, $100 a tonne is not unheard of. I’ve got 15 tonnes of it ready to go, and as I’ve learnt from various bunker barge operators there is plenty of water around a ship to “bulk” up the delivery amount. It does concern me though that the same people offering to buy waste oil are also the same people that you take fuel from; diesel engines don’t run too well on oily sludge; however as long as I don’t load fuel in Dakar it isn’t a problem! And we won’t even talk about the very illegal refrigerant gases that I’ve discovered stashed away in various lockers round the ship…

Tropical Weather

Well we are now in the tropics and should expect tropical weather, we are in the middle of the rainy season and so it has lashed it down for three days now; this isn’t your freezing cold “Boltonian” rain, this is “like standing under a warm shower” rain! And does it throw it down; it starts like turning on a tap and rains for an hour, swamping the decks. Then the sun comes out and dries up all the rain, hang on isn’t that a line from Incey Wincey Spider? Anyway, when the sun does shine the humidity is unbearable and it becomes very sweaty; this cycle continues from sun up to sun down until it is beer time! And then the humidity increases all night, because it only rains in daylight hours; I’m just praying the air conditioning doesn’t pack in again.

Jack Sparrow and his mates…

The Gulf of Guinea is now the hotspot for Pirate Activity, since our good friends the US Navy has become very pro-active in dealing with the piracy problem off Somalia, the number of incidents in East Africa has plummeted whereas in West Africa the situation is worsening dramatically. A recent seminar in Cameroon highlighted the problem, nobody really cares; the Nigerian government is so corrupt it has no effective way of co-ordinating any kind of action. The pirates appear to be located in the Niger Delta and pretty much in complete control, as they had out bribes to all concerned to turn a blind eye. The Nigerian government isn’t bothered if cargos are being hijacked, they receive taxes when the oil is exported; if it is hijacked why bother, they’ve already been paid! The oil companies don’t really care because once the oil is in the tanker it is insured by the ship owner, so if it goes missing the ship owner has to pay for it. The ship owner doesn’t really care because he has insurance to deal with such matters, and so the only one really worried is the poor seafarer who is on the front line and left to face heavily armed pirates with nothing more than a fire hose. A recent comment from our operations director summed up the attitude of ship owners toward the problems faced, “I think the problem is being blown out of proportion, it doesn’t seem too bad; anyway you get a bonus, don’t you!” Probably doesn’t seem too bad from your office in Limassol, but 587 reported pirate attacks in 90 days on a coastline stretching 50 miles worries a lot of seafarers.

The coming week

The next seven days sees us heading to Lome, Togo; Cotonou, Benin and Malabo, Equatorial Guinea; well it should! However our last trip saw us suffer delays in all three of these places, in Lome they stuck a forklift truck through the side of the ship, in Cotonou they had a strike over the Easter weekend and in Malabo they lost the keys to some of the cars! I just love this part of the world!

If my lists are correct (thanks Mum, you’re always organised) there are no birthdays this week, so enjoy the summer.

The Galley

I remain to be convinced about the new chef, “low fat”? I didn’t come to sea to eat healthy food; I’m here for the out of date, high cholesterol muck served up by Polish chefs. Anyway, here are this week’s offerings… (…and before you ask, I don’t know what Tahini is either and the cook didn’t really answer the question, Google™ it!)

Low Fat Chicken Shawarma

Ingredients: For the shawarma: 500g chicken (thinly sliced); 1 cup shredded cucumber; 3/4 cup yogurt; 1tbsp garlic paste; 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper; 1/2tsp curry powder; 1/2tsp cinnamon powder; salt as per taste; pepper powder (a pinch); 1/2tsp all spice; 1/2tsp paprika; juice of 2 lemons; 1tsp oil. For sauce: 1/2 cup yogurt; little lemon juice; 1tsp tahini; salt; 1tsp garlic paste.

Method: Preheat grill to medium. Take a medium bowl, stir cucumber, tahini, lemon juice, yogurt and 1/4 teaspoon salt together and then put the sauce aside. In another medium-sized bowl, mix garlic powder, curry powder, pepper and salt. Slice chicken breast crosswise and mix it with spice sauce. Grill the chicken, two minutes per side (turning once). Take pita bread, spread the sauce on it. Add chicken, tomato, onions, parsley, chilies and make a firm roll.

Potato and Yogurt Salad

Ingredients: 1/2kg potatoes (boiled); 200ml yogurt (whipped); 1tbsp oil; 1tsp cumin seeds; 1tsp yellow mustard seeds; salt and pepper to season; 4tbsp sliced spring onion; 4tbsp pineapple (chopped); 2tbsp garlic (chopped); 1rbsp mint (chopped); 2 green chilies (chopped); 1tbsp melon seeds (roasted); 4 slices of dried bread.

Method: Take a small bowl, add boiled potatoes and mix it with yogurt, lime juice, lemon juice, slices of dried bread and cumin. Add pineapple, chopped green chilies, sliced spring onion, mix it until everything combines in right proportion. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour before serving.

Rime of the Ancient Mariner (continued)

Part III "There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye -  When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist. A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: Gramercy! they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in, As they were drinking all. See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame, The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the sun. And straight the sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered With broad and burning face. Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the sun, Like restless gossamers? Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a Death? and are there two? Is Death that Woman's mate? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; `The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice. The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip -  Till climb above the eastern bar The horned moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. One after one, by the star-dogged moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. The souls did from their bodies fly, -  They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul it passed me by, Like the whizz of my crossbow!"

Part IV `I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown.' -  "Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropped not down. Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie; And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. The moving moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside -  Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The self same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea."

Actually when I said there was 29 parts, I’ve divided it up into 8 sections for you continued enjoyment!

The renewed saga of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner 23rd June

Good day and welcome to the renewed saga of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a tale of a seafarer from Bolton as he navigates the treacherous waters of West Africa. In this weeks edition there is a story of why seafarers don’t like to fly, another brush with the thieving b@st@rds of Gibraltar as they sell us fuel, a little bit of literature, a bit of star-gazing and another recipe from the Galley.

Aluminium Budgerigars

Ah the joys of international air travel; the endless queues, the insufferable delays, the excessive “additional” charges and the discomfort of aircraft seats! Why do it? Travel by sea is far more civilised, and if it does go wrong us humans do retain the ability to swim. Flight is still beyond us… just saying…

So as Bolton isn’t on the Mediterranean I am required to fly to Marseille via Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. The first half of the journey from Manchester is usually the simplest part; the problems frequently arrive during the transfer in Paris, Charles de Gaulle airport is legendary for its ineptitude! If your transfer time is less than 2 hours, you can forget seeing your luggage at the destination airport baggage carousel. However on this particular day the problem lay with the flight from Manchester to Paris, or the Parisian weather. As we approached the runway, we were hit with “hailstones the size of golf balls” and lightning strikes all around the airplane so just as we were about to touch down the pilot aborted and powered us away to a destination unknown. For an hour we headed away from Paris, and thanks for keeping us updated Mr Pilot, until once again we approached for a landing. In Paris the skies were dark and threatening, at our unknown destination the skies were cloud free; it’s was safe to assume this wasn’t Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. As we landed and taxied off the runway we ended in a car park full of budget airlines finest aircraft, I’ll emphasise that it was only the budget airlines that seemed to be affected by the weather, just saying… So we finally discovered our secret destination, Lille some 150 miles North of Paris and 800 miles from Marseille.

As too many aircraft for Lille to handle began to discharge several thousand disgruntled travellers, the legendary French organisational skills kicked in. Everybody in a uniform vanished, and those few that remained were unable to speak any language that anybody could communicate in; if you spoke English they only spoke French, any body that tried to speak French was met with a Gallic shrug of the shoulders. We were ushered out to the front of the terminal to be met by a fleet of buses and a mountain of suitcases piled up in no particular order, the baggage carousel/handlers had long since given up the ghost and buggered off for a coffee and Gauloise.

It was at this point that I took a chance and decided to attempt to transfer to a flight from Lille to Marseille, rather than take a three-hour bus journey to Paris and attempt to take a later flight to Marseille. The poor brave lady who had foolishly stayed at her post whilst everybody else buggered off was soon swamped with all kinds of transfer requests, but she must have taken pity on this poor seafarers plight as she chose to help me first. In typically swift manner, Mademoiselle Air France had me booked on a lunchtime flight to Marseille. All was not lost; a rather content Pugwash arrived in Marseille just a few hours late and, as a bonus, with both items of luggage in hand.

Marseille

Very soon I was back on-board the mv Maestro Sea and being quickly brought up to speed on the events of the previous six weeks. The major talking points being the lack of beer (again!!), the lack of stores (again!!) and the lack of air conditioning in the engine control room (again!!). So to sum up the handover nothing had changed and nothing had happened, lovely! The schedule for the ports had changed several times, but for this trip we would be heading to Dakar, Senegal; Lome, Togo; Cotonou, Benin; Malabo and Bata, Equatorial Guinea and Douala, Cameroon before heading back to Valencia, Livorno and finally Marseille in early August. Strange how these six-week trips seem to be stretching to seven and beyond… However the weather forecast was great and we did have plenty of beer that contained a very nice selection of Spanish, German, Dutch and Danish beers. 

Piracy in the Straits…

Due to logistics once again were required to top off our fuel tanks in Gibraltar before heading out of the Mediterranean for our journey south. You would think that with Gibraltar being British, bunkering would be simple, well think again! The bunkering is undertaken by several groups of thieving bastards, the bunch of thieving bastards selected this time was Aegean Bunkering Ltd (I’ll name and shame them). All we wanted was 100 tonnes (100,000 litres, 22,000 gallons, 2000 tanks full or 750,000 miles for your average family car), a very modest amount in terms of ships. It should be a “splash and dash”, we can load at a rate of 300 tonnes an hour so sign a few forms, 20 minutes to load, sign a few more forms and away you go. If only… once the fuel hose is connected there are 24 forms to check and sign, then all of the tanks on the barge had to checked, all of the tanks on the ship had to be checked (because of past problems an independent surveyor was on-board to verify the correct amount of fuel was delivered) and only then could we start to load fuel. So 20 minutes later the loading stopped and the bunker barge presented me with a receipt for 100 tonnes, unfortunately I reckoned we had only received 85 tonnes and so for the next 90 minutes a stand-off ensued as I refused to sign the forms and the barge refused to give me more fuel. Eventually the “independent” surveyor stepped in and the barge gave us another 5 tonnes, the surveyor then decided he was happy! Well I wasn’t, and pretty much accused everybody of being corrupt and to them all to “go away” and refused to sign the receipt. So after seven hours of stress and grief we eventually left 10 tonnes short and I had a headache, oh yeah and then I got a bollocking from the owners for not getting the full 100 tonnes. Grr… “Don’t make me angry, you won’t like me when I’m angry…”

Mentions

Only two birthdays this week; happy birthday to my Mum for the 21^st June and Geoff Burrow for the 25^th June.

Our only port of call this coming week is Dakar, Senegal on Wednesday 26^th June. Once again I have to face the Customs Officials from Hell; Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz I am ready this time!

A Super-Moon

On the 23^rd June, to those fortunate enough to have clear skies, (that’ll be me then!) there will be a very large moon, it will be at it’s closest to Earth this year. I knew you’d be impressed!

From the Galley

We have a new cook on-board, so expect lots of wonderful recipes. This week we have Panzanella Salad a classic Cheese and Onion Pie for your enjoyment.

Panzanella Salad

Ingredients: 2 large tomatoes (trimmed and each cut into 8 equal pieces); 3/4 pound day-old crusty style whole-grain bread (cut into 1-inch cubes); 1 cucumber (skinned and seeded, cut into large chunks); 1/2 red onion (chopped); 1 bunch fresh basil (torn into little pieces); 1/4 to 1/2 cup good olive oil; salt and pepper to taste.

Method: Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat. When the oil is fragrant, add the bread and garlic. Fry over medium low heat until the bread is crunchy. Add salt and pepper to taste and then set aside to cool. In a large mixing bow, mix the tomatoes, cucumber, onion and olives. Put vinegar, mustard and salt and 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a separate bowl and mix the dressing properly. Pour the dressing over the vegetables and stir. Add the bread to the vegetables and mix. Allow the flavours to absorb into the bread by just string it a few times to make sure the bread gets evenly soaked. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Nutritional value: Calories 294; Sodium 543mg; Total Fat 15g; Potassium 345mg; Saturated 5g; Total Carbs 32g; Polyunsaturated 1g; Dietary Fiber 2g; Monounsaturated 8g; Protein 9 g; Cholesterol 22mg.

Classic Cheese and Onion Pie

Ingredients: For Pastry: 85g butter/white vegetable fat; 155-170g plain flour; cold water. For filling: 3 medium onions (chopped); knob of butter; chunk of cheddar cheese grated; 3 eggs. Optional extra filling: Splash of milk; balsamic vinegar;thyme; salt and black pepper.

Method: Put the flour and fat into the food processor. Mix it until you get breadcrumbs. Mix cold water to bind the mixture to prepare the pastry. Put the pastry in refrigerator or cover it with a wet cloth to prevent it from drying. Preheat the oven. The pastry dough should be divided in two balls, keeping one a little larger than the other. Gently fry the onions in a pan with butter on a low heat until soft, then leave to cool. Add grated cheese into a bowl and mix it with onion, eggs and cream. Add salt, pepper, thyme according to your taste. Pour the eggs over the onions/cheese. Brush beaten egg over the top, make a hole in the middle. Bake for about 30-45mins at about 200C until golden brown and the cheese is bubbling from the hole.

Nutritional value: Calories 451; Sodium 650mg; Total Fat 23g; Potassium 0mg; Saturated 9g Total Carbs 49g; Dietary Fiber 4g; Sugars 5g; Protein 11g; Cholesterol 0mg; Calcium 0%; Iron 0%; Vitamin A 0%; Vitamin C 0%.

A little bit of poetry

The title of this little “blog” is The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and so for the next few weeks I will read a little poetry to you. It should be noted that the poem is extremely long-winded and a little “boring”; if anybody should suggest the same of this blog, I’ll come looking…

Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. `By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: Mayst hear the merry din.' He holds him with his skinny hand, "There was a ship," quoth he. `Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropped he. He holds him with his glittering eye -  The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon -" The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And foward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken -  The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an Albatross, Thorough the fog it came; As it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo! In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moonshine." `God save thee, ancient Mariner, From the fiends that plague thee thus! -  Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow I shot the Albatross."

Part II "The sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow! Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white. And some in dreams assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung."

Did I tell you there are 29 parts? Well there are, told you it was long winded! I will be asking questions at the end.