Tims Times

I used to work in LNG ships about 10 years back, trading on a few different routes, Australia to Japan and Abu Dhabi to Japan mostly to Tokyo Bay but we got around to all the major Japanese ports.

The Tokyo Bay pilots were mental about punctuality any change of ETA greater than 15 minutes had to be reported or there schedule would go down the pan. There was usually 2 or 3 pilots for these LNG ships also, them being large and full of explosive gas in liquid form that would make Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like a fire cracker if they went up. Of course you didn’t think about that when you there, oh no, you were thinking about what all sailors think about, “when am I getting home?”, the “next cold beer” and “sex”, and usually in that order. If you were thinking “I work on large potentially lethal gas tank” then you were instable and should not be in the merchant navy, piss off ashore and work in a nice office for you.

Needless to say the Japs didn’t hear our references to Atom bombs and the like, discretion being the better part of valour and all that shite. So these 3 pilots clambered up the pilot ladder and were duly escorted to the bridge along the green walkway. The bridge was 10 floors up from deck level so there was no question of climbing stairs, when you have 3 elderly Japs, only one of whom speaks English and thats pushing it and he is the junior trainee pilot, he looks about 60, the other two have a look of about 80, no joking, and they are dressed like extras from The Streets of San Francisco complete with tweed hats and coats, bell bottom flares and white cotton gloves, the kind that old captains use on inspection, so you take the lift, every sign onboard by the way is in English and Japanese, even my second mate badge was in 2 languages, so they feel at home. The elevator doors open to the bridge and there is the usual 5 minutes of bowing and Hai!, Hai!, Hai!.
First time I  heard hai! I was joining a ship from Oita in western Japan, first time in Japan and the only European there, it was a worrying time for me I thought I would get lost, but I should have been logical about it, the shipping agent was collecting me from the bus, so all he had to do was find the only round eye there and collect him. Anyway in the hotel everybody says Hai! of course I think it’s Hi! and just wave and say Hi! back, it worked well for me, but they were probably thinking that I was a bit thick.

Back to Tokyo bay and the Streets of San Francisco gang are piloting as if their lives depended on it, the eldest gives the instructions and the other 2 bark orders into UHF radios and tugs appear and are made fast. I offered the pilots coffee and there was nearly a diplomatic incident, I asked the junior pilot first, he nearly had to commit hari kiri in order not to insult the senior pilot, ok maybe not that serious but he stared down at the deck until the old man gave me a dig, and gesticulated furiously towards the eldest. When the old guy got his coffee the younger ones were able to drink theirs and everyone blew out a sigh of relief, or maybe the excessive exhaling was to remove the curious smell of camphor and tiger balm from nostrils……
We managed to get the ship moored without incident and on time again. Connecting the loading arms is a job of continental proportions, in Japan anyway, more extras appear on the quayside, 100’s of them dressed in pale pistachio green uniforms and black boots with the white thing around the top of the boot just like the WW2 uniforms….uncanny, all of them have a rank on their uniform life “connecting team 1″ or “daylight hours responsible” and our trustee “senior translator daytime” they descend on the manifold all with a specific task, spanner holder, bolt loosener, nut bucket director and so on and the arms get connected fast. Then the cooldown starts, LNG is cold minus 162 degrees C, so you have to cool everything down slowly before you start pumping otherwise you get cracked pipes due to thermal shock. In the loading port in Australia you have 3 guys to do the whole show, connecting, cool down and alarm testing, in Japan there are different ways of doing things and a hierarchy that makes the Catholic Church look like the boy scouts. The cool down valves sit on the side of each manifold, the “Chief Cooldown Responsible Daytime” tells the translator that he wants the valve opened 10%, the translator tells me, I open the valve and tell the translator and nod to the Cooldown guy, but he ignores me and waits until the translator has spoken, he saw me open it unless he has a non-Japanese person filter in his safety glasses, but he doesn’t acknowledge me at all. Strange place.
Meanwhile up in the conference room there is a pre-cargo meeting, that looks like the Yalta summit with flags and bunting and presents being handed over, plenty more bowing and moving and shaking. This happens every time, completely unfathomable for us, but it’s their place, let them do what they do.
Cargo starts, and everything goes smoothly, every hour a rate is calculated, how much is left onboard, how much has gone ashore and when we expect to finish, standard stuff, but the second hand hasn’t managed to get past the hour when the translator starts giving hassle for figures, when he gets them a series of phone calls ensues in Japanese, each starting with “Mushi, mushi” he gives all the bows also even though he can’t be seen, there could be a telepathy thing going on though, when half of Tokyo knows that we are on schedule same as the last umpteenth times he is temporarily happy for another 55 minutes.
We were in Tokyo when I found out that Diana and Dodi al Fayed had died in Paris, the lift doors opened at the cargo control room and the second engineer Davies from Swansea, says “awright Tim, Diana’s popped her clogs” and he shuffled away whistling “my old man’s a dustman” ……
Anyway each hour until the cargo is completed Johnny One eye (he has one glass eye, there are plenty references to Japs Eyes and the like, juvenile but gave us a great laugh) our translator hassles us for figures, I could give him figures from the last cargo, he wouldn’t know the difference, or give him completely wrong numbers just to see what would happen, but our sense of humour does not translate as well as English so we don’t bother. Then we finish cargo and go through a procedure not unlike that at the start only opposite, post-cargo meeting where there is plenty more bowing and warm-up on deck. And we sail again for OZ.
More from Japan later….Cheers Tim.