I was sitting in my chair drinking coffee quite happily this morning when Oleg, the Second Mate came and informed me that I would be paying off the vessel when we arrived in port in two days time! This was news indeed, I had expected another three weeks on-board before I would be in travel mode but this was excellent news indeed, I might actually make it home for Chinese New Year on the 17th February. The reason for this sudden release seemed to be that my Work Visa would expire on Feb the 14th and so ……..they seemingly could not get me a new one in time!
By 5pm more news was filtering in, and true to life out here so far, another change of plan! We had been steaming full speed to port since first light but now our vessel had been called back to the location, the Moliqpaq was running out of fuel and the Pacific Endeavour was the only boat in the vicinity with any to spare. This piece of news had everybody from Yuzhno to Moscow in a panic - I had to be out of the country by the 14th, but the vessel would not now be returning to port until the 20th at the earliest - what to do with poor little old me.
The plan that emerged was that I would transfer to another vessel, the Pacific Enterprise. She was sailing downhill to Kholmsk and we would be passing her at 11pm at night (as we sailed on our new path upwards and to the location)! The transfer of personnel at sea is nothing new! This type of operation has been carried out successfully for decades and is basically a routine that is known inside out by all on-board! Two ships steam side-by-side, weather permitting, and the person to be transferred simply steps across from one vessel to the next. No big drama!
Here though, in one of the last outback's of civilization there is more to a simple transfer than meets the eye! This addition to the transfer is called Ice! Ploughing through thick ice the Pacific Endeavour and the Pacific Enterprise cannot simply park next to each other. For starters, ice-breakers tend not to have any small fenders to ease contact; these would simply get ripped off during normal operations by large chinks of ice as they scrape past the hull. They have Yokohama Fenders that can be lowered over the ships side by the ships crane when required, but due to their size a larger gap between the vessels is produced, one that is wider than would be deemed safe to jump across on a normal day. And last but not least, ice-packs are constantly moving and shifting and to retain the ability of manoeuvrability and ice-breaking capability it is best that the vessels are not limited by parking next to each other, even if it is only for a brief minute or two.
All dressed up for the occasion
This therefore leaves the fast rescue craft (FRC), the fully functional little boat with engine that adorns the sides of the accommodation of most offshore vessels today. The two vessels split the tasks between them, my vessel the Endeavour opted to clear the ice whilst the Enterprise got her FRC ready for action. Andrey the skipper went about his ice clearing task with all the 22,000 Horses available to him, first by cutting out a large square in the ice field and then chopping up the ice inside of that square into smaller chucks and blasting them aside with the wash from the propellers. And finally by holding position at the end of the square, the end that is against the drift of the ice so that the square cut out is maintained free of ice for the FRC to operate in. The Enterprise, under the able Command of Victor had her FRC ready and crewed and upon a signal from the Endeavour entered the square from the other end and lowered her FRC into the water.
The Fast Rescue Craft
And this is where I came into play! The FRC came alongside, I was handed the splash suit (a large one-piece orange and thermally insulated and hooded suit that gives protection against the minus twenty degrees outside and against any of the freezing water that may splash up during transit) and after much struggling and cursing I fitted myself inside. I felt like a zombie, unable to fully move my arms or legs but well prepared for the short trip across the square. I clambered down into the FRC, ably helped by the boats crew and after my luggage had been handed down we set off for my new home.
Allot can change in the time it took me to put on the splash suit. By the time we started the trip back to the other boat large chunks of ice had entered the square (the ice-breakers cannot operate when the FRC is in the water as there is the great danger of the propeller wash turning the little boat over) and so we had to meander slowly around the wayward chunks under able directions of the seaman in the front. This is not quite Titanic material here; this is purely a descriptive account of events that are second nature to many but to me were shall we say 'different'. We hit some ice, the boat giving way rather than the ice but without further ado I found myself alongside the other boat and not soon after safe inside the accommodation.
The Square Cut-out in the ice
And that is that! I transferred safely across, I have waved goodbye to my vessel of seven weeks as she departed for the colder climates up North and I am now on my way home. It will take two more days of ice-breaking to reach port, two more days of seafaring before I see land but I am in the transit stage, I am in the travel home mode and as long as the plans don't change yet again I can shut my mind down and prepare for a couple of months of leave with my family!
Just got to get out of Russia now!
The Seafaring Articles 
