Jorge and I, buffed and painted the ship side. Kevin Bell was tucked in between the funnels and there seemed to be more paint on him than the ship. The tanks overflowed with fresh water and the salt ran away down the scupper pipes. All this was set before the snow covered mountains of Norway. When I looked up at the Esperanza from the quayside she seemed ready to sail beyond latitude and longitude and into a new era of time. She is looking beautiful, hull blue and rainbow bright, this Polish built Princess in her twentieth year of grace.

As the deck crew painted in the sun, the Norwegian speaking campaign team invited passers by to come on board and view the ship. In the Heli-hanger information was available relating to the campaign. An old man wearing a sailors cap strolled along the quay, he came up to me and stopped. I was painting the shiny bare metal spots on the ship's side - her first layer of undercoat. We got talking and I discovered that he had been a fisherman for thirty years and had fished off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. His arms opened wide in describing the size of the fish he once caught, yet the description was not accurate enough and so he directed one hand to indicate the ground whilst the other held high in the air, "Den var saa stor" he said to me. I had to start laughing. Then his thumbs went up for saving the cod and a hand waved, "far away from the coast", to the oil tankers that travel up and down. He gave a belly laugh that helped the paint dry more quickly. We where communicating in sounds that made no sense, yet all meaning was clear. Today the conclusion of the Esperanza's role in another campaign.

Goodbye Nordic team, we turn our gaze towards the west coast of Scotland. And with a toot toot from the ships whistle we set sail.

Mike Mate