Transitus Equatores on the Grande Buenos Aires

I rode on the Grimaldi cargo ship The Grande Buenos Aires from August 13 to September 18, 2012. I embarked in Zarate, Argentina and disembarked in Antwerp, Belgium. The ship called on the ports of Santos, Brazil; Vitoria, Brazil; Dakar, Senegal; Tilbury/London, the U.K.; Emden, Germany; and Hamburg, Germany. 

We’ve been crossing the Atlantic Ocean for 5 days with no sight of land and at 12:22 this afternoon, we crossed the equator. I went to the Germans' cabin and we had a countdown till 0 degrees according to their GPS, which was attached to their cabin window, then we cheered! We had heard stories about the crossing of the equator on the last tour, when a good portion of the crew as well as all twelve passengers were baptized in an equator-crossing celebration. We had also heard rumors that there was something in the works for us today, but none of my inside sources were able to give me details.

I spent the afternoon on the deck with my fellow female passenger, the German lady, sunbathing. I had a glass of white wine. Resolved that nothing big was planned for us, I showered, dressed, and carefully did my make up, in anticipation for dinner at 6 pm. Around 4 there was a knock on my door: “On the bridge. 5 pm.,” said the steward. Oh shit.

Around 5 I ran into the Germany lady on deck. We smoked a cigarette together and I realized she was just as nervous as me, if not more. Her partner, Peter, had made his living as a seaman, so he had crossed the equator for the first time long ago. Although the lady had crossed the equator the first time, on their way to South America one year ago, there had been no celebration. For their southbound journey, they had taken the Grande Francia. This ship and his captain were apparently somewhat insufferably rude and stuck-up. The crew and I heard a lot about the crappy food and atmosphere on that ship. The weird thing was, our chief chef, Raphael, was the chief chef on the Grande Francia when the Germans made their southbound journey. He insisted he was not given a big enough budget on the Grande Francia to obtain high quality ingredients like meat and fresh fruit. The food on the Grande Buenos Aires, my ship, was excellent (if not also quirky due to the limitations of storable food items).

The German lady and I bit the bullet and climbed the steps/ladder leading to deck 13, the top deck sometimes used for cars and on which the bridge was located. The captain and the first cadet took a look at us and the captain said, “No, no tennis shoes. You’re going to get wet.” We went off to our cabins, laughing hysterically (read: nervously), to take off our shoes and make adjustments to our clothing.

Upon returning to the bridge, we were ushered toward the center of the deck and we were blasted with water from a water hose, which pumped salt water from the sea. They had rigged up a mini stereo and dramatic neo-classical music was playing in the background. Then, Neptunus and Femme Fatale (crew members dressed up in costume) flicked soupy food-stuffs from a large pot of random ingredients the chief chef had gathered from the galley. For the rest of the ceremony I kept exclaiming, “There’s parmesan cheese in my hair!” and “I smell like dinner!”

We were then presented with a certificate printed on a very nice vellum paper entitled, “TRANSITUS EQUATORES.” This certificate is in Latin, I presume, and here is the Google translation of it. Some of the words I could not find in other latin-english dictionaries either… so please excuse its brokenness.

Day 27 in the year 2012 month 8, in the name of Neptune, god of the sea, storms, etc., we comandantis bastimientos, “BABY CALAMARIS.”

Permits

1) Be sure to navigate to all of the storms and floods and pamperos without fear nor aquamaris flumicellis

2) Remember to roll back the entire features Waters bastimientos fetid earth scocciant

Decretamus

Baptism by water, crossing the equator with bagno salatas uevas fracidas and when, head to feet.

Name: Baughman McDowell Kelci

All batizzantes abligati are wholly without scampo, pagans and alcoholic alcoolicas refrigerator for veterans passing equator.

And then show that Neptune will be in all things, mercifully for the transitions of the sea and of the rivers in the world, sowing your seed.

Signed

Comandante  

In addition to the certificate, with an apology they gave us the invitation the ceremony, which they forgot to give to us at breakfast. We had toast with bruschetta, fruit, and sangria on the bridge. There was a round of pictures taken and then all the Italian started to smoke in synchronicity  We sat with the captain and chatted for a while, then the wind picked up, the sun slipped behind the bridge, and the shadow made us cold.

We returned to our cabins and got changed, then headed for the deck behind the galley, where the crew had started the grill going. I was overwhelmed with food and beer being shoved into my hands. I chowed down on a chicken drumstick, grilled and salted to perfection. The crew made jokes about each other eating all the little pieces before I could get my hands on anything. Then, Hasan, the crew’s steward, summoned us for dinner with the captain. By some miracle I consumed a huge amount of deeply satisfying food that night at dinner instead of talking with captain, the Germans, and the officers. First Hasan brought out a round of Indian dishes, which was a treat in my opinion. Us passengers were always served Italian food, prepared by the chief cook, who was Italian, although the second cook was Indian and prepared the food for the Indian crew. These were rice dishes with grand Indian spices such as dimensional curry and cardamon  Then, many rounds of grilled meats were presented, including lamb and fabulously flavorful and rich steaks from Argentina, which were especially delicious since they were charred from the barbecue  in true parrilla style. For dessert, a delicious flan with dulce de leche and cream.

Even after dinner was over, the celebratory mood prevailed over the ship—the crew were socializing and having fun, laughing and whooping it up. I was able to spend some time hanging out with the Italians for a few hours, smoking cigarettes and laughing even though I didn’t understand much of what they were saying.

We had three BBQs like this one; the first was the day after leaving Vitoria, crossing the equator was the second, and the day after leaving Dakar was the third. The last one was by far my favorite. We had the barbecue and the dinner itself on the top deck, number thirteen, next to the bridge. I especially came out of my shell on this night; I made a lot of conversation, a lot of jokes, and I danced with Shona and Fabio on the deck. At the end of dinner, the chief chef presented a wonderful platter of eclairs and pastries, filled with chocolate and vanilla pudding. Much later that night, I was put to bed while I recited a poem I had been working on, a poem I originally wrote in 2008 and was now making real: Love is a jug / of stillness / we found them / frenetically filled their hearts…

By this point on the trip, I realized it was going to end; I had made friends and we were now on our way to North Europe, where I would disembark. I realized I had license to take as many photographs as possible, to open up and have as much fun as possible. For about 20 days I had gone without the internet, cell phones, movies, and t.v., and I was about to go for another 6. I had had limited access to contact with my friends and family, and no news of the going-ons in the developed world. Yet life went on, the world turned, the ship kept moving through the ocean. Yes, soon I would leave the ship for my unclear life in Europe, yet I wanted to remain in this never-never-land of simple existence, simple pleasure forever.