November 2 Noontime Position: Lat 46deg 57,9 N; Long 148deg 10,4 W
(Still) Over the Tufts Abyssal Plain

We changed time zones last night, moving our clocks back one hour. This was the first of eight consecutive days of “one hour retards” we will have on our way to Busan. As we will be crossing the International Date Line, November 7th is not scheduled to exist.

The elements are truly against us. We’re laboring counter to the North Pacific Current, as well as winds upwards of Force 11. Our speed has been cut, and the ship is pitching up and down even more strongly than before. The bow rises and plunges into huge waves, making the hull shudder and spraying white water high and wide over the deck. At breakfast, the Chief Engineer regaled me with news that on average one merchant vessel disappears without a trace every week due to freak waves. I thank him for this cheery piece of trivia I’ll have to live with for another two weeks.

The “Hanjin Copenhagen” is essentially a big steel shoebox 278m long x 40m wide x 50m tall. Pushing this mass over the water is one monstrous 74,700 horsepower engine cranking a propeller with an 8m diameter. This morning I went deep down into the engine room to have a look. On many levels, it was probably one of the most useless educational experiences of my life. Let me elaborate.

First of all, mechanical knowledge is not my strong suit. It still takes me a shamefully long time to make even simple bike repairs (if I can do them at all). Put me in a vast hold containing assorted tanks, pipes, pistons and gauges and I’m quickly out of my depth. Second, the Chief Engineer explained all this in German, a language I know but don’t often use. Even if he had done the tour in English, I still wouldn’t recognize a “ballast stripping eductor” or an “anti-heeling pump” if they were giving me a lap dance.

Finally, and most important, was the acoustic assault. From 10 stories above, the engine noise is a dull rumble. Below deck it turns into the piercing screech of a million hairdryers set on “high”. We put on sound dampening ear coverings to do the tour, and in this hearing-impaired state I tried vainly to grasp German technical explanations. I nodded sagely as the Chief proudly presented a set of valves, and pantomimed understanding as he gestured towards a row of boilers and said something profoundly undecipherable.

The one thing I did get: I couldn’t stand being more than 15 minutes in that sonic Hades. The engineers, electricians, oilers and mechanics spend their entire workday there.