Just here as ballast

Busy day today. We’re still unloading iron ore from Brazil. The operation runs day and night. Two gantry cranes take turns, their massive grabs opening and shutting like mechanical jaws, dipping into the hold, scooping up a truckload of ore, and dropping it into a pit the size of a small swimming pool. It’s mesmerising to watch.

From there, the ore vanishes into a network of conveyor belts that seems to go on forever. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s job is probably just to watch one of those belts in case something goes wrong. I don’t envy them.

Apparently, the iron ore we’re carrying will fill a 10-kilometer stretch of trucks. I try to picture that and fail. So, I nod politely and pretend to be impressed, which I am, just quietly.

Next on the list: ballast. We’ll be sailing to Narvik without cargo, which means we need to take on thousands of cubic meters of water to keep the propeller below the surface and stop the ship from bobbing around like a tin can. It’s a stability thing. Think of the difference between perching on a designer bar stool at a hip wine bar or sinking into a saggy recliner in your grandmother’s living room. One gives you core muscle tension and anxiety. The other: peace, and possibly a nap.

Later today, divers are coming to polish the propeller blades and clean the sea chest. The propeller has four blades and a seven-meter diameter. Apparently, it takes hours. I don’t know what visibility is like underwater at the Port of Rotterdam, but I assume it’s less “Finding Nemo” and more “grey fog with surprises.” Hats off to them.

As for me, I’m just trying to keep my head down and not get in the way. Everyone’s busy and knows exactly what they’re doing. I, meanwhile, am trying to work out the etiquette of quietly occupying space in the officers’ mess without looking like I’m loitering or eavesdropping. So far, people are friendly. They say hello, then carry on with their day, which I consider a social success.

The Chief Officer has been very patient, explaining things in layman’s terms so I don’t get completely lost. I’m not allowed on deck for safety reasons, which I accept. No arguments from me.

I’ve now been given my own operations manual. Today’s homework: what to do in case of fire, and how to abandon ship. Hoping not to put that knowledge into practice anytime soon.

(Note: if any of the numbers I quote are incorrect, please please, send me a comment with the correct number.)

Written: 03.08.25
Location: Port of Rotterdam