.
Stena Europe dreaming
So, I had my first crossing on the bridge and seen nothing between Fishguard and Rosslare. Having got to Rosslare I departed the ship and made my way along the Perspex roofed and elevated walkway from the ship to the terminal, passing through customs where a stern looking policeman asked everyone their nationality. Presumably, if we came from somewhere, he did not like, we would be dragged out and given the third degree. Taking no chances, I said “Welsh”, passed him by, turned through the door and down the elevator, through the concourse and out into the fresh air.
Next walk across the car Park and up the hundred+ steps I later christened “The Steps of Doom”. And onto a footpath overlooking the harbour with four hotels along its half mile length. The first a Best Western Hotel looked pretty busy, I was feeling a tad peckish, and decided to check out the others. The burned-out wreckage of what was apparently once the Tusker Rock Hotel did nothing to enhance the general impression. The next one along was the Hotel Rosslare, which looked pretty posh with a large indoor swimming pool visible through the ground floor windows. The last one was the “Harbour View” where in subsequent visits over the years, hundreds of our volunteers , interns and Dolphin-Othon participants ate and drank well, Unfortunately I retraced my steps and ate a pretty mediocre meal in the Hotel Rosslare, surrounded by coach trippers in garish shell suits. Then back to the ship and a couple of pints in the bar as she headed off back to Fishguard.
I was tucked up in my bunk sound asleep before we arrived in Fishguard. I awoke with a start wondering where I was, as all hell broke loose! It sounded as if I was inside a giant grinding machine with banging and crashing and the sound of metal scraping against metal. It slowly dawned on me that I was in a cabin aboard the “Stena Europe” which from the cacophony going on around me, indicated we must have run into a rogue iceberg that had somehow made its way into the Irish Sea.
I dressed hurriedly and bare footed I left my cabin to see if we were sinking. As it happened, we were not sinking. The cacophony was from the sound of the giant hydraulic rams opening the huge bow-doors, and lorries driving off the gangway. We were back in Rosslare. It was six in the morning and I had slept like a log as the ship had landed and reloaded at Fishguard and made passage again across the St Georges Channel. I showered and dressed again this time with shoes and socks. Up on deck ten Rosslare looked clean and fresh in early morning sun. I noticed several Black Guillemots swimming in the harbour some displaying. Common and Sandwich Terns passed calling overhead, along with raucous black headed gulls. A Hoodie crow was feeding among some litter bins.
A call came out on the ships tannoy speakers, “Passengers boarding! Passengers boarding!” Hmm, I thought time for breakfast in the restaurant. Tea, bacon, sausage, fried slice, etc, set me up well. I collected my binoculars and recording stuff from my cabin and made my way up to the bridge. Later on, a locked security door was added to prevent unauthorised access to the bridge but at this time it was just a matter of sliding the bolt on the low iron gate and walking into the bridge via the bridge wing which I proceeded to do.
Next walk across the car Park and up the hundred+ steps I later christened “The Steps of Doom”. And onto a footpath overlooking the harbour with four hotels along its half mile length. The first a Best Western Hotel looked pretty busy, I was feeling a tad peckish, and decided to check out the others. The burned-out wreckage of what was apparently once the Tusker Rock Hotel did nothing to enhance the general impression. The next one along was the Hotel Rosslare, which looked pretty posh with a large indoor swimming pool visible through the ground floor windows. The last one was the “Harbour View” where in subsequent visits over the years, hundreds of our volunteers , interns and Dolphin-Othon participants ate and drank well, Unfortunately I retraced my steps and ate a pretty mediocre meal in the Hotel Rosslare, surrounded by coach trippers in garish shell suits. Then back to the ship and a couple of pints in the bar as she headed off back to Fishguard.
I was tucked up in my bunk sound asleep before we arrived in Fishguard. I awoke with a start wondering where I was, as all hell broke loose! It sounded as if I was inside a giant grinding machine with banging and crashing and the sound of metal scraping against metal. It slowly dawned on me that I was in a cabin aboard the “Stena Europe” which from the cacophony going on around me, indicated we must have run into a rogue iceberg that had somehow made its way into the Irish Sea.
I dressed hurriedly and bare footed I left my cabin to see if we were sinking. As it happened, we were not sinking. The cacophony was from the sound of the giant hydraulic rams opening the huge bow-doors, and lorries driving off the gangway. We were back in Rosslare. It was six in the morning and I had slept like a log as the ship had landed and reloaded at Fishguard and made passage again across the St Georges Channel. I showered and dressed again this time with shoes and socks. Up on deck ten Rosslare looked clean and fresh in early morning sun. I noticed several Black Guillemots swimming in the harbour some displaying. Common and Sandwich Terns passed calling overhead, along with raucous black headed gulls. A Hoodie crow was feeding among some litter bins.
A call came out on the ships tannoy speakers, “Passengers boarding! Passengers boarding!” Hmm, I thought time for breakfast in the restaurant. Tea, bacon, sausage, fried slice, etc, set me up well. I collected my binoculars and recording stuff from my cabin and made my way up to the bridge. Later on, a locked security door was added to prevent unauthorised access to the bridge but at this time it was just a matter of sliding the bolt on the low iron gate and walking into the bridge via the bridge wing which I proceeded to do.
I did not know him at the time, but Captain Bob Wheel, the Night Master was stood leaning over some paperwork as I walked through the door onto the bridge. He turned, straightened, looked in disbelief, and then roared “WHAT THE F**k DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING ON MY F**king BRIDGE!!!” Somewhat taken aback by the velocity and vehemence of his challenge I garbled something about being the new dolphin watch and having permission from Captain Farrell. Who luckily arrived on the bridge at that moment from below, and thankfully confirmed that I had permission to be there. “Did you see anything on the way over yesterday” Captain Farrell inquired? “No, I replied, but it’s a lot calmer today so we might be in with a chance. We were joined by the Helmsman (Dai Morgan, who took the ships rather pathetic little wheel and they set about casting off, the officers maneuvering us out of the berth using the controls on the bridge wing which gave them a clear view fore and aft.
I kept out of the way until we nosed out of the port and into the main channel where Dai took over control of the ship and set course. I set up my GPS and Recording sheets on the front of the bridge wing and started scanning the sea in front with my binoculars. Both officers joined me, “We never see anything much here” was their pessimistic offering. Just then, I saw a dolphin surface and come speeding into our bow,
“There’s one!” I shouted, drawing their attention to the common dolphin. “What’s that over there, out towards the Tusker Light? asked Dai who had joined us. I could hardly believe my eyes! a Minke Whale surfaced a couple of times and then closer another showed well, only about four hundred meters to starboard. Three sightings in as many minutes! My first ever Minke Whales from the Ferry! Things were certainly looking up…
...and then the fog closed in!
To be continued…