The Fog and the Smoke

On our way here to Thule Greenland the M/V American Tern ran in to fog. The
fog lasted about 2 and one half days. The constant sounding of the fog horn
and the presence of the captain on the bridge made for very long days.

I suppose some people feel a bit claustrophobic in the fog, not being able
to see past the faint shadow of the bow does give you this closed in
feeling. On the other hand some feel rather comfortable being wrapped in
this blanket of fog. I was annoyed.

On February 20th of this year I quit smoking tobacco. Somewhere along the
journey I seem to have developed an allergy of some kind to tobacco smoke.
When I am around the smoke I instantly get a sinus headache and I feel
rather sea sick and nauseous. It is my luck that our captain is an
inconsiderate chain smoker. He lights up on the bridge but refuses to open
a door just a crack.

Hear we are, dodging ice bergs in the fog and I am out on the bridge wings
all bundled up trying to avoid the smoke. I don't want to say anything
directly to the captain; I have already heard that he would not take my
complaint kindly even if delivered in the most positive of ways. So
instead, each time he lights up, I begin donning my cold weather gear then I
step outside and close the door behind me. I will stay out there and when I
finally get cold I would look through the window and wait until I see him
put out a cigarette. At that point I will re-enter and take off my cold
weather gear. The last time I came back into the bridge, he walked right up
to me, asked me how I like the weather, I responded that it wasn't as bad as
I expected the arctic to be, then he smiled and lit another smoke while
standing right next to me. I immediately went back outside.

It is not easy to complain about smokers. I smoked for nearly 25 years and
ex-smokers are often the worst. I really do not want to be one of those
guys; but now I am seeing the other side... It really is a pain.

Well, anyway

After a couple days the fog finally broke. The ice was much easier to spot
and maneuver around. We arrived in Thule (say: tooly) on the evening of the
19th. We were called to all hands for docking around 10:30 pm, and after
the slowest non-pilot docking in history we were tied up by 5:30 am. We
were delayed by another ship that was leaving the dock, and by the captain
who couldn't have possibly made the ship move slower without turning back
time.

Midnight here is no different than noon, except that the sun has moved to
another spot in the sky. It is odd not having darkness, time is all screwed
up. As the ship was inching its way to the dock, the 1st Assistant Engineer
came out to the stern, he said "Don't worry guys, I am almost positive we
will get to the dock before night fall!"