Ocean College



Date: 30.11.2019
Author: Frida
Position: The middle of the Atlantic
Geographical Position: 14°18.1 N /038°14.4 W
Etmal: 117 nm

Are you awake?

“Friiiida, Friiiida are you awake?” Slowly I opened my eyes to a Joana who was far to motivated.

3:30 in the morning and I thought: “Yes, yes I am, but out my mouth there only came: Mhh maybe I am.”

I fought with hardness against a monster far to big and far to strong: sleepiness. It was a fight I couldn’t win and so I lost.

The soft cushions of my bed, held me tight in their stranglehold and pulled me back down into the lovely hell that called itself Sleep.

“Friiiiida, Friiiida”, the vicious voice of morning awoke me again.

This time I couldn’t lose as the honorable, famous and strong night : Joana with her 160 cm now used all her fighting skills to keep me awake.

She took away my blanket and ripped me from my sleep as the electrical sun reflected from her armor and into my eyes.

Help - braucht man nicht am Steuer

The first two hours

“The first two hours, survive the first two hours” was the only thought speeding through my head as I stepped outside and a warm gust of air greeted me.

I went up the stairs and along the poop deck already seeing the relieved faces of the off going watch as they anticipated my coming with a smile on their faces.

While handing over my soul was pleading to the gods: “Please Jacky, please, please don’t put me on the helm” but it came as it had to and Jacky being the she-devil she so commonly is, made me steer.

Tic toc.

Tiiiiiiic Toooooc, Tiiiiiiic Tooooc, is what it feels like standing there, the time going by slower than a sloth.

The wheel in my hands, the ship in my control …. and then the worst case scenario happens, the compass, that son of a b____(by Ruben) suddenly shows 290 instead of the supposed 275 degrees.

I started turning the wheel like a hamster and the voice in my head screamed: HEEEELLLP!!!

Help for the children
Simon erklärt etwas für die watch.


And then they come, just like the cavalry on the horizon: my watch.

And so me and my watch battle the morning hours, everybody helping where they can and that is how we survive till breakfast as a team.

I wrote this because every single one of us is always there to help and to know that there’s always someone you can talk to, always someone who helps you, never a problem that can’t be solved, is just awesome.

For example if someone is sick or not feeling well, there’s always someone offering their help asking if they can do something for you.

Or if you don’t understand something in Math there’s always someone there to explain it.

Or you just can’t do the last hour of your watch there’s always someone there who offers to takeover.

And even if its just a hug you need there’s always someone there to hug.

P.S: An meine Familie, ich wünsche euch eine schöne Adventszeit, feiert schön den ersten Advent.
Ich habe euch lieb und vermisse euch! Frida

Murder Mystery

Datum: 29. November 2019
Autor: Phil
Position: Atlantik
Geographical Position: 14°33.3’ N/ 36°15.8’ W
Etmal: 120 nm

Es war 01:00 Uhr in der Früh, eine sternenklare Nacht, Johannes hatte zusammen mit dem Rest der White Watch A Wache. Sie nutzten die Zeit, um Unterschriften in ihren Training Record Books zu sammeln. Deshalb hatte er auch zusammen mit Lilly diese Runde unter Deck gemacht, sie hatte ihm das Firefightingequipment gezeigt.

Auf dem Rückweg war es dann passiert, ausgerechnet heute, wo er seinen Plan in die Tat hatte umsetzen wollen. Er hatte Simon noch gesehen, wie dieser an den Porttreppe stand. Verdammt, er hätte vorsichtiger sein müssen, misstrauischer, aber er hatte sich nichts dabei gedacht und nun war tot, ermordet mit einem Bilderramen.

Die Ankündigung, dass sie das Royal setzten sollten, kam Carl genauso wenig komisch vor wie die Tatsache, das Pete ihn an die Starboardclue geschickt hatte. Plötzlich stand dieser hinter ihm mit einer alten Unterhose. Dieser Anblick war so schrecklich, dass Carl einen Herzinfakt erlitt und verstarb.

Nach der Seamanship-Lesson wollte Joana nur kurz in ihrer Kabine etwas holen. Plötzlich, aus dem nichts, stand ich hinter ihr in der Lobby. Ich hielt einen Regenschirm in der Hand, mit dem ich nun ausholte und zuschlug. Nach zwei gezielten, aber immer noch kräftigen Schlägen lag sie am Boden, die Blutlache um sie wurde größer.

Max hätte lieber schlafen gehen sollen, anstatt noch Star Wars IV mitzuschauen. Drei Minuten vor Ende des Films wurden sie zu den Bracingstations gerufen. Keiner wollte so spät abends noch Bracen, aber es musste sein. Das Bracen verlief ganz normal.

Anschließend wurde noch der Spanker gesetzt. Nachdem sie damit fertig waren, wurde wie immer aufgecoilt. Pete schickte Max und Sarah, wärend sie noch mit coilen beschäftigt waren, zum Outer Jib handen zu Ella aufs Vordeck. Max bemerkte erst zu spät, dass sowohl Sarah als auch Ella Gasmasken trugen. Ehe er sich wundern konnte, öffnete Ella den Gefahrgutbehälter und holte Carls Socken hervor.

Eine grausame Mordwaffe, die sogar von der Genfer Konvention verboten worden war, und ein ebenso grausamer Tod. Der Geruch soll so unmenschlich sein, dass sich seine Opfer mehrmals umbringen, um ihm zu entgehen. Max wahr binnen Sekunden mehrmals gestorben. Ella lachte diabolisch, verpackte die Socken wieder in ihrem Behälter und warf sie zusammen mit ihrer Gasmaske über Bord. Ihre Arbeit war getan.

Weiterhin wurde heute Paul mit einem Teppich erstickt und Sam von einer Schatztruhe erdrückt.

Bei uns auf dem Schiff wird natürlich niemand in echt getötet. Das Ganze ist ein Spiel namens „Murder Mistery“, bei dem jeder einer bestimmten Person auf dem Schiff an einem bestimmten Ort einen bestimmten Gegenstand geben muss.

Wird einem ein Gegenstand angeboten, ist man verpflichtet, diesen anzunehmen. Dadurch „stirbt“ man und gibt dann seinem Mörder den eigenen Auftrag weiter, bis die letzte Person übrigbleibt und gewinnt.

The most horrendous of days – a dramatic retelling of true events

Date: 28th of November 2019
Author: Anson, Chief Engineer
Position: Atlantic Ocean, in the middle of nowhere
Geografical Position: 14°56.3 N/34°14.5 W
Etmal: 112 nm

Rat tat tat at the door, rat tat tat once again, I consciously acknowledged the sound. I glanced at my watch; five in the morning, stirred from a nightmare and awoken by one.

I opened the door after taking a moment to make myself decent, awaiting in trepidation for the problem that might unfold. The joy of being a marine engineer, things always break at the least considerate times.

Outside my door stood the First mate, her cheeks rosy and hair sea wind wild, she has command of the Pelican through the hours of 4 to 8 and clearly had already been awake for a while as the unwelcome news left her lips fast and devastating.

The galley urn (Large hot water maker) was broken. The night watch was coming apart at the seams, the chaos was stirring and there was no way the vessel could be safely navigated with blood tea levels dropping so low.

My initial reaction was one of disbelief, shock and horror. Such critical equipment failing.

Why me? I retorted in a flash, perhaps an emotional reaction to the traumatic news. “Can I not fix it at 8am?” was my reply. To which she responded an utterance to justify my awakening.

That 32 young teenagers would soon be tea making and our back up kettle was not up to the challenge without breaking.

I arose fast, straight out of my pajamas and into my zone where the world disappears and only machines whirl and groan.

The engineer was on the case, personality left behind and tools in its place.
I went well equipped with spanners and a purpose, the Urn now the enemy and me in my fortress. I started with the fuse and then it came undone.
With the urn under arm I headed out for morning sun, only to be slapped in the face with a flying fish that came on a hurtling from over the side.

Stunned and taken aback, the laughter a chorus all sung perfectly in time.
The fish quickly flung back into the ocean with great consideration for its life. The engineer now with wounded ego continued with his toil and strife.

The urn taken down to pieces, each component tested with no resolution.
The ship was now a stirring, students awaking and emerging from every corner, no coffee in my bloodstream, no coffee to be had.
The masses were marauding and chaos rallied the band.

My mood began to sour, as the questions were abound, what are you busy with? became my most pro-vacating sound.
three hours now had passed, three hours more or less. No breaks were had, no tea was drank and the sun came baking down.

My ginger skin and the world i was in burned up in great despair.
As the urn was mended electrically, all was safe intrinsically.
Only the scale that caked the boiler, that hard white scale in the boiler was all that remained for me there.

I scrubbed it with a sponge, baking soda as well .
I progressed on to the white spirit vinegar and a metal scourer to.
I cleaned that boiler as best I could, until all that should remain.
Was a hole in the bottom of my boiler, a small rusty hole in the boiler.
And I cursed to the sky in vain.

My ship mates were all gathered, gathered around the show.
Watching me now cursing at my boiler with a hole.

There’s a hole in your boiler, dear Anson dear Anson
There’s a hole in your boiler dear Anson a hole.
was sung bold and loud.
Oh what refrain when the only resolution was to use the old boiler for its parts that remained.
and so began the second wave, good work undone only to begin it all again.
The hour approached noon, the work was finally done.
aside from a bruised ego the battle had been won.

The water at a rolling boil,the ship a rolling on.
Somewhere in the world an engineer is toiling and cursing at the sun.

But all is well in this great big world, all is well in deed
With a cup of tea and the wind at our backs,
what else could a man possibly need?

With love -The Pelicans chief engineer.



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