Nov. 15 – Noontime Position: Lat 31deg 06,1 N; Long 122deg 19,0 E
Outer approaches to Shanghai
“Facking China, facking Chinese. Come in, facking Chinese. Over”
The brisk, businesslike insult crackles over the radio. For the past couple of minutes, the airwaves have been hijacked by bad amateur Mandarin singing. The long, drawn out wailing is unnecessary, non-operational, and has provoked Polish-accented rudeness. An anonymous radio duel has begun, sailor-style. Ethnic slurs, at dawn, at 3 nautical miles.
On the bridge, the 3rd Officer hears the Polish response and nods in weary, bleary-eyed appreciation. He spent all yesterday afternoon and night supervising cargo loading in Ningbo, and is in no mood. It had been a veritable Gantry crane gangbang – six of them working on the Hanjin Copenhagen, and too much for one man to oversee properly.
“Facking China, facking Chinese, facking China, facking Chinese.”
The Mandarin singer’s wailing abruptly stops. Then he doubles down.
“Faaa-king faaaa-rei-naaaa.”
Unlike the airwaves, the sky is unusually clear and bright as we slowly approach Shanghai. Land is not yet visible, but ship traffic is heavy, as one would expect from the world’s busiest port. I take a stroll in the gentle breeze. The crew is covering
rust spots on the fo-c-sl deck (that’s the very front of the ship for you landlubbers). It’s quiet here, but the smell of primer, paint, and diesel fumes is strong.
I’ve packed my bags and settled my slop chest account ($15). Looks like I’ll be signing off ship this afternoon after I get clearance from the Chinese authorities. I’ve requested a hotel in the $40 range near the main railway station, and have agreed to an absurdly steep one-time fee to be brought there. Yes, the term “Shanghaied” comes to mind. But on the other hand, when you don’t know the place or the language, and have no local contacts, that’s the price you pay. The alternative, dockside in Shanghai with no plan and no friends, would make a better story though.
Stay tuned, but don’t worry if there’s no report tomorrow. I’ll still be getting my land legs back.