For better or worse, most of us know little of ships. But maybe it’s not a bad idea that we try to.
Fun fact: today there are 50,000 merchant ships in the world oceans – carrying 90% of international trade.
Each of these ships is a a link in a global supply chain, vital to the world economy.
Strangely, the economic crisis brought, mostly out of fear, a whole new respect and acknowledgment of shipping’s importance. In the months following Lehman Brothers’ stunning collapse, shipping languished at unprecedented levels.
Orders for new ships ground to a halt and freight dwindled. Newspapers portrayed the scary spectacle of port’s clogged for months with empty freighters with literally no purpose but to float about. Ship lanes were empty.
Imagine if, all of a sudden, English Bay with its half dozen resident freighters was suddenly clogged with four times that many vessels waiting for coal, logs and potash that no one was buying. It would be a potent sign of our cherished captialist system imploding on itself. And I think we’d stop and take notice.
I guess it’s hard to notice shipping’s importance. We can’t appreciate something when it’s a largely invisible process. And, when a ship does emerge close to shore, it’s hardly nice to look at. Most these days are squat, brutish things bearing little resemblance to their more graceful ancestors.
With the advent of steam, the sight of sailed craft has slowly disappeared from the water – replaced exclusively by steel hulls and diesel propulsion. How sad progress can be. Still, look hard enough and there is beauty in the most ugly thing and with that comes appreciation, even respect.
Alain de Botton taught me that, writing in his latest book about London boat watchers as they stand for hours in the drizzle, “alive to some of the most astonishing aspects of our time. Standing beside a docked ship, their heads thrown back to gaze at its steel turrets disappearing into the sky, they enter into a state of silent, satisfied wonder.” (The Pleasures and Sorrows of work).
So, all that said I hope I make a pretty good argument for giving ye ‘ol ships a few more props. Or even a passing salute, should the spirit move you.
Love the article. But I wanted more! I was just getting into it, picturing the ships cruising around the world, picturing the docks, all the while Jacques Brel singing about the Port d’Amsterdam, and then boom…over.
Question: how do you think people working in the shipping industry, including truckers and sailors and conductors (oh my!) affects their “home” community, seeing as their away all the time? Comings and goings of the mobile workers, sending money home and building the homes they seldom see. What’s that all about?
I agree with Steve. We need more! Could this be a series?
You know, I feel like I just looked into your soul a little, GVB. And it felt good.
What are your three favourite things about modern ships?
JCH
Thanks for your comments, gents.
Steve, I was at a “shipping luncheon” of sorts a couple of months ago, where a bunch of salty grey beards, were doing a seminar called the “Business of Shipping” – most of them were Brits, ex merchant captains, content to end their working days ashore, working in corner office jobs at Vancouver’s bulk cargo companies. They spoke foundly of their days afloat, six months of the year – most brought community with them, literally. Wife, kids, pets, the lot. It sounded to me that the life of a sailor is one of floating community – then again – all that’s changing now with Skype and quicker routes etc…
John –
1) Immense size
2)Ugly grace (such a tantalizing oxymoron)
3) Vulnerability