THE BOAT DIARIES

Day 1:

Well, I was pretty nervous about joining the vessel, thinking it would be a rough boy's own club, but so far all the men on board have been really nice and very, very friendly.

I was in the galley and all their eyes were on me, and I've got my tray of food and as the boat lurches in the swell I stumble slightly. At first I hoped no one saw, but they're all staring at me, and staring hard at my shorts. Lots of the other guys are wearing shorts but I guess mine are non-regulation or something to make them stare like that.

Anyway, I say brightly "I guess I haven't got my 'sea legs' yet!” then add “Ha ha!"

No one laughs, but one of the sailors says he doesn't know about my legs, but that he reckons I’ve got a “fine sea arse”. I'm not nautically trained, so I'm not sure what that means, but it's met with nods and murmurs of approval.

What a friendly bunch!

Day 2:

I'm working with our Ukrainian captain, Vitaly, moving boxes around the wheel house. There's a steep ladder next to where he stands, and all day he watches me climb and descend, climb and descend. At first I was paranoid thinking he was staring a little too much, but then I realised he was just looking out for me.

You may no know it, but when you're on a working vessel safety is paramount, so I'm grateful each time Vitaly grabs my hips and guides me to the floor, even though there's barely room for both of us to stand and we end up mashed together.

When I am done he gives me a manly slap on my rump to show his approval. His hand lingers a little, and he says something Russian under his breath, and I want to say something but after all I don't want to offend. This is the way of the Ukrainian peoples.

Day 3:

Disaster! Something has gone wrong and flooded some of the quarters. John, one of the swarthier sailors, informs me that in such situations it's custom for shipmates to "hot bunk".

Poor man. Of course I agree to share my bunk and he tells me he'd do the same in such a situation.

As we spoon out of necessity I just wish he'd removed the spanner from his coveralls as it's very uncomfortable.

Day 4:

Neither of us sleeps well, but Swarthy John looks worse for it. His mood worsens as the other sailors argue with him when we emerge from my quarters. He's done something the other sailors don't like, something about "the fresh fish", but I don't understand what that is.

He promises to tell me later what it refers to.

Also sometime in the night the flooded rooms have cleared. Odd.

Day 5:

I...