Chapter 23: The Best of Each Port

Max and Peter sifted through their cook books and cruised the local restaurants for ideas, and then went shopping. We all encouraged them to explore what was good to eat in different ports, then to try it out on us. They knew well enough not to burn out our tongues or assholes, and stinky cheeses were dead out of the running in the close confines of a ship. However, there were a lot of good local foods that none of us had ever heard of. It was up to them to step up to the plate and show us things that were new and exciting, dishes that we'd want to experience over and over again.

Smoked suckling pig prepared on a charcoal grill made me want to curl up and die, it was so good. That got 10's across the board from the crew. We were unrepentant barbarian carnivores, no argument! We did the same with a milk-fed calf and saluted our cooking staff.

Okay, dried, smoked and shaved ham on toasted Italian buttery-crusted bread, rubbed with fresh garlic and fresh parsley, set off by a little fresh mayo and maybe some sharp cheese got high marks.

We got into tapas in a big way for a while. It was always a good time, and fit in well with the Norwegian, Russian and Danish cultures of long snacking dinners.

A classic spicy Spanish paella with rice, seafood and chicken stock made fond memories for our old ages.

Our cooks duplicated the local bistro fare until we nearly subsided in a haze of decadence.

The french didn't have a lock on tasty duck dishes: terrines, smoked flesh, delicately handled livers, thighs and breasts preserved in jellied aspic, butter or fat with mushrooms and alliums, such as garlic, leeks, onions and chives have a place close to my heart. (Yeah, it's called Cholesterol!) Vigo definitely had some good eats. We stocked up on fresh and smoked fish and bought a dozen cases of wine that we were informed were compatible with shipboard cellars, then left for our next cargo destination: Dunkirk France.

The whole crew was putting on weight from eating too well. It was a groaner but we all turned out for morning excercises on the top deck. It was the only place left on the ship that had enough space! (--our cargo spaces were full, else we could work out on the mid-deck, as the lower deck was our preferred cargo spaace. It kept the ship's center of mass low.)

The straights moderated the seas, somewhat, but we were still tossed about. The seas of the English Channel aren't all they're cracked up to be. We were all glad for the calmer waters once we came into port. I noticed that all of our trans-shipment berths were very close to rail facilities. A container could be quickly repainted and sent out on a nice, anonymous trains's flat-bed car no matter what the cargo, no matter what the security. There was a definite advantage to anonymity.

From dunkirk, where we took aboard general freight, we headed for Wismar, northern Germany. That's were I planned to start 'operation bed warmer'.