I have always longed for adventure and fun. Is that why I was placed in a situation which not many women experience? I married a mariner last year. Life on a ship is not easy. I quickly realised that I was second to another woman, one who protects, nourishes and works for her men -- the ship. She does not take kindly to another of her kind aboard so easily. Her staircases are narrow, her doors heavy, and the lifestyle rigorous. But I was not willing to bow down to her either. We had a long way to go together. We would have to be friends. I joined my husband, who was chief officer on a tanker vessel, in Fujairah, UAE. I was going to spend the next six months with him. Boarding a ship was no cakewalk. We donned life jackets on a little motorboat that swayed alarmingly. A ladder was dropped from the port side. Everything was moving, the ship, the boat, the ladder, and I had to climb that swaying thing! Well, I managed the feat without any mishap and was taken to our cabin. It did not seem real! Cozy it was, with a bedroom and a dayroom and portholes for windows. While I daydreamed, my husband went straight to work. I realised the very first day that life on a ship means work, work and more work. The ship is like a little city, an industry by itself. You get everything you want on it. If you don't, you make what you need, including fresh water. The crew is always fixing something, building something, painting, cleaning or mending. We spent the first few days anchored in Fujairah. Then a pilot boat guided us out to sea. I watched from my porthole. Slowly the lights of the boat disappeared and she merged into the inky blackness around us. We were our own. Slowly we ploughed through the water and our journey across the world began. We sailed through the Persian Gulf, which is supposed to be calm. But I could see the swell in the water. Everyone kept warning me that I'd get seasick. Bad weather, but I didn't get seasick! Remember, I was going to be an equal here, and not let Her rule over me. Seasickness is a state of mind really. It's true that when the ship rolls, you do feel funny in the stomach. But a lot of fresh air, and sensible eating can put you straight. So I was all right. Life is hard on the ship. Once aboard, everyone has to set their biological clocks to the demands of the sea. As chief officer, my husband had to keep watch on the bridge for two four-hour stretches, in the morning and evening. And of course, once you reach a port, sleep is just a sweet memory. The tankers mostly carry oil, which is highly flammable. Everybody has to be alert all the time. It is a very risky business. But on the bright side, life can be beautiful out there at sea. It is so refreshing to stand on the deck and feel the cool breeze on your face. It's a thrill to see the ship slicing through water, leaving a frothy wake. For miles and miles around you see nothing but endless water and a big, blue sky. The nights, especially on full moon, are surreal. The moon lights up the entire sky. The silvery waters, the soft breathing of the sea, the glow of the phosphorescence... it is like a dream. If you go right up to the fo'c's'le , the enormity of the sea overwhelms you. This is infinity defined. The sea and sky are one, and you are just a tiny speck in this vastness. You can see the ship striding on with a purpose. Steady and mighty. And then you realise, it is only happening because the sea is letting it happen. If it wills, it can swallow the ship. We are always at the mercy of the sea. From the fo'c's'le I could view nature's canvas. Each sunrise and sunset was a work of art. Truly, is there anything more spectacular, more perfect, than sunrise and sunset? Perfect performances, each different from the previous. A one-man show all the way, and didn't we know that all good things in life are free!? It is such an amazing experience to discover that the sea is full of life. Scores of flying fish, glittering in the sun, gliding from one wave to another. Schools of dolphins, leaping, diving, dancing, swimming along with the ship. Big whales underwater, shooting spouts of water into the air. Sea snakes and jellyfish. Gulls. There is one big, happy family out there! Then came the bad weather. At the Bay of Biscay. The sea turned an angry grey, with big, white, frothy waves. Waves lashed the ship incessantly. She pitched heavily, and water came gushing on to the deck. The wind howled. Visibility was almost zero due to the rain and spray. What an experience! Wet, grey and alone, fending for yourself. Life gets depressing then. But always, always there is a brighter side. After every storm, the sun shines warmly on your shoulders. Where else could I have attended a party on a full-moon night, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? Where else would I have had the opportunity to talk to a dolphin? Where else would I have got to bask in the Mediterranean sun all day? Or count shooting stars all night? You tell me, should I call myself lucky? And to think that Susmita Bhattacharya had her feet anchored to firm ground just a year ago! Illustration: Uttam Ghosh Tell us what you think of this diary
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