Wishes and dreams are not foolish; they are blueprints for our lives. In elementary school, I wanted to be an astronaut. It was a massive dream, but it led me to a reality where I spent 14 years flying over 10,000 meters.
My life in uniform was defined by more than 8,000 flight hours, enough to orbit the Earth 170 times over the equator. Off-duty, I flew even more, completely consumed by the need to see this beautiful planet. But flying high doesn’t gives you a sharp view of what is happening below. During my wandering around the countries, I witnessed interesting cultures but as well deep human struggles. Many of those experiences left scars on my heart.
That weight reshaped my priorities. I grounded myself to raise a family and pivoted toward an urgent calling: supporting people without jobs. How a cabin crew member made that leap is a long story, one I’m maybe unfolding in a book. I tired of being a spectator to reality… so now, in retirement, my words have somehow tryied to become actions. But these “actions” didn’t always yield the desired results. This latest experience was a painful one that, once again, forced me to confront human falsehood and hypocrisy.
Last year, I did a five weeks volunteer work for CPWF on the ship Jean Paul DeJoria with cpt. McLean. July 9th this year, the captain confermed me a previous offer to work as a cook on his ship, the Lord Nelson. At first, when I learned it wasn’t a vegan ship, I declined. However, he insisted, telling me that I could cook however I liked. He refered that the Good Pirates Organisation was involved in an “humanitarian relief mission”. Details would be given as soon as I was on board. I was quite happy about this new opportunity to contribute as a volunteer to a humanitarian effort, or so I had deluded myself into believing. For the first part of the voyage, he stuck to the itinerary he had presented during the briefing, but later on, he began lying about the true nature of the mission and failed to inform us about changes to our course. Little by little, we also discovered that the mission was not strictly humanitarian in nature, but rather involved political ruse for supremacy by a nation that did not want to cede a group of islands in the Indian Ocean to another nation. In short, it is ethically questionable to characterize the mission as purely humanitarian. And still, we were not given all the details…
In Ismailia, the captain ran into trouble with customs officers and was detained for several hours, unable to access the ship. After leaving Ismailia, for eight days, strangely the Wi-Fi wasn’t working (shut down?) and as early as Malta, the captain had also switched off the ship’s location tracker which caused a great deal of alarm for our families. He than failed to stop at Hurghada to sort out the necessary exit visas in our passports and now we’re left with problems that we’ll have to resolve with the Egyptian consulates in our respective home countries! Moreover, we didn’t stop in Port Sudan but instead we drop anchor in Suakin. During this time, the atmosphere deteriorated significantly and the fundamental conditions for collaboration had ceased to exist. The lack of empathy and coordination, combined with the person in charge’s disregard for the volunteers’ needs, made us realize that the situation could only get worst. Without air conditioning on the lower deck, it had become impossible to sleep, so almost all of us slept outside on air mattresses.
Throughout the five weeks, the young volunteers carried out a variety of painting, repair, and general cleaning tasks.
However, there were only few opportunities to truly learn anything about sailing, as I was told, since some sails were hoisted solely to allow for filming. The filmmaker, a friend of the captain, will produce a video about the “humanitarian” mission and one wonders whether it will be faithful to the facts or not.
Me and other 7, we decided to leave in Suakin, we didn’t feel safe anymore with the way the crew was handled. Among us, one elderly captain and six young women. I admit I’m worried about the volunteers who remained on the ship, especially one of them who had injured his shoulder. To the incident I reported, the captain reacted cynically, not caring whether the young man was in pain. Ultimately, we were merely volunteers, quite easily replaceable by others who had no idea what awaited them.
Nevertheless, I have fond memories of the time spent with the crew members, and it was very painful for me to witness the emotion, tears, and sadness as we said our goodbyes in Suakin.
Here I share some pictures of the lovely moments the ones will stay forewer!
A few nice photos taken on the Ortigia Peninsula in Syracuse, with its typical narrow streets crowded with tourists, the cats you see just about everywhere, the young volunteers I got along with very well, some churches (there are as many as 18) and the departure of the first volunteer…
The small island of Malta is a special place: Valletta, though crowded with tourists, is a popular evening hangout with a multitude of small restaurants and bars where you can relax with a drink.
We were docked at the pier there, so we had more flexibility to get off the ship. But the layover lasted only two and a half days, and there was a lot of work to be done on the ship, for the kitchen considering the inventory and purchases that had to cover (as the captain had reported) at least four weeks.
I loved cooking for the crew and I did it with passion. Only a couple of them complained (behind the scenes) that the cook didn’t prepare meat or fish. Just like on the other ship, every day I baked 2 to 3 kg of all kinds of bread. I was able to count on Myrhiam’s invaluable help; she not only helped me cook and take inventory, but also put up with my whining whenever I realized something wasn’t quite right. Asha, too, was always available whenever she didn’t have other tasks to attend to… but to tell the truth, all the young people (including Captain Francis) were always asking me if I needed anything.
But the best moments were those when we shared our thoughts, emotions, and worries. Together we laughed and joked; we lifted each other’s spirits by telling anecdotes and stories from our past; we played cards; or we watched, breathless, those unforgettable sunsets that will stay with me for the rest of my life. That is why, despite what has happened and the pain I felt, the emotions this experience has given me have become ingrained in my soul.
From Ismailia, we took a bus to Cairo’s Old City. Together with Myrhiam, Asia, Medea, and Sonia, we wandered through the narrow local streets, which were certainly not frequented by tourists. While looking for a restaurant (with restrooms), we came to the sad realization that “Dawarat al-miyah” or simply “Hammam” aren’t found in local eateries. So we turned into a side alley and were stopped by a woman who didn’t speak English but managed to make herself understood through gestures. We weren’t supposed to go that way. Thanks to the translation app on our cell phone, we were able to explain our urgent need, and the woman took us to her home.
It was a truly unique experience, the kind that happens when you least expect it and that you carry with you forever.
After using the family’s bathroom, they invited us to lunch. Refusing would have been an offense, so we stayed.
Sharing in their poverty, in a modest two-room shack, with a very lively little girl who literally pounced on us, was also something out of the ordinary for me. But perhaps this is the best way to appreciate what is offered from the heart by those who have nothing and willingly give away their food, even if it means going without themselves.
Myrhiam and I, after leaving the tiny home three hours later, bought something to take to the elderly woman as a token of our gratitude.
Together with the other four girls, I shared a unique experience: simply something unforgettable.
The next day, we had booked a tour of the New Cairo Museum and the Pyramids through an acquaintance of the captain. The price was exorbitant, considering that admission tickets to both sites cost a third of what we had to pay. Lunch at a large tourist resort certainly wasn’t worth the rest of the amount. The whole tour was a mad rush, we didn’t really get the information we’d hoped for; no sooner had we taken a photo than we were already moving on to the next display case. In order to return to Cairo without any issues, I’ll now have to contact the Egyptian consulate because, thanks to the captain’s recklessness and indifference, we all are missing the exit stamp from Egypt!
But the most adventurous and phenomenal part of our trip was the tour to Fayyum, Tunis, Jabal El Medawara, Wadi Al-Hitan, and Wadi El Rayan. A friend of Myrhiam’s, Adan, is a tour guide and a really fantastic one! We were immersed in the spectacular beauty of the desert, we visited the Valley of the Whales (Wadi Al-Hitan) and were left breathless to realize that those places, billions of years ago, were covered by the ocean. We had another unique experience, sharing the beauty of those places with special people and sleeping under a starry sky with plenty of shooting stars, allowing us to make wishes.
Several of the young volunteers are very brave, it’s amazing to watch them climb the booms and spinnaker poles (I think that’s what they’re called). I wanted to try it too, but I didn’t make it all the way to the platform.
The young officer did his best to teach the art of sailing: both he and the senior captain, who left with us, were kind and considerate toward the crew.
Every now and then we had visits from some birds; unfortunately, once one died after crashing into the windows of the bridge, which should be equipped with special anti-collision stickers to alert birds to the presence of transparent obstacles!
From this adventure, I’ll cherish the memory of special people, those captured in the photos, young and old alike, who believed in the goodness of the “mission.”
Life is made up of many experiences, all of which teach us something, even when they cause us to suffer.
To the one who caused the problems, I only hope that life teaches him (provided it’s not too late) to respect every living creature: both human and animal.