Ireland

Ireland

Sunday, February 15, 2009


I show a picture of a building on the Island, just a few hundred yards off the bow of our barge. It’s a pleasant looking white structure called Las Cucharas, it’s Ponce’s maximum security prison. So, I’ve been greeted every morning with this same view, and today, it occurred to me that the prisoners peering out their windows have been looking at us for weeks, anchored right in front of them. I imagined today, the prisoners talking amongst themselves. They’re probably saying, “I’m glad I’m not stuck on that boat every day in the middle of the harbor.”
We joke among ourselves that this experience feels like a prison. Normally when the boat is busy, traveling here and there everyday, the constant movement is therapeutic to a certain degree. This experience of sitting in one spot for weeks is detrimental to my mental health. Bush could have closed Guantanamo and put the high risk detainees on board here with us. They’d be talking in a week to 10 days. The good news is I’m due for parole in 3 days.
Normally our evenings on board have our tug plowing through the seas toward our next destination. The wheelhouse is manned by the Captain or Chief mate on lookout or charting the next course change. The deckhands perform a myriad of tasks during their 6 hour watch. The 4000 HP engines are screaming down below in the engine room, monitored by myself, the Chief Engineer. When we’re underway, the boat is abuzz with activity and noise, 24 hours a day.
At anchor, it’s different. The engines are shut down, so the noise on the boat is only a low hum from the one generator that is running. Except for the wheelhouse guys, the crew works during the day and then we have the rest of the evening off. Usually reading and movie watching provide the entertainment to help the time pass.In our new role as a boat at anchor, the boys have found other ways to entertain themselves.

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