(Friday, March 18th, 2016)
I have a few scattered photos from the bridge, specifically of bridge instrumentation rather than just sights from the bridge. I will try to collect them in one place.
I am allowed on the bridge except when we are in port, and when we have a pilot on board. So, especially when we are going a long way, I go up to check on things and chat with whoever is up there, so I’ve learned a bit.
We have three radars, depth indicators, a charting system, a helm (power and steering), wind and current indicators (both speed and direction for each), and all sorts of communication gear. That’s all arrayed in a console that also has a small helm wheel and a traditional sized throttle control – a knob on a big chrome stick. I am sure that “throttle” is the wrong word.
In addition there are panels with warning indicators, switches for various things, and some emergency buttons.
Behind the console is an office area with racks of manuals and regulations and charts. When the captain of the Rickmers Shanghai found that they were diverted to West Africa, he and the 2nd Mate had some of those books spread out on a table in the office for a while.
In another nook, next to the office, are a couple of computers, and a couple of printers. Just outside the office, in sturdy metal cages, are several server computers. One of the cages has rope all around it, lashing it to the floor. It is obviously the “secure server”, eh?
The office and the computer nook are behind and close to the main console. Also behind and off to the side, near the stairs, is a small kitchen area. There’s a cupboard, a sink, a coffee maker, a small fridge, and a microwave. There’s also a toilet.
There is a lot of room to walk around on the bridge. It feels open and serene.
There are several pairs of binoculars strategically placed on the console and along the windows. I bring my own, tee hee.
There is a “Morse Code Flashlight” (it probably has a better name), in a rack, being charged, in one corner of the bridge. Could be how to communicate if other methods are thwarted. I remember knowing Morse Code once upon a time. I think for about 30 minutes. Must have been for a test. All of us have part of our brains dedicated to “pass through”, eh? Quadratic formula, anybody? Ha.
The bridge itself is not as wide as the ship, but there are doors to decks, at the same level, that extend to the ship’s edges. Often I’ve seen the Captain or a Mate on those decks, especially when we are docking, bunkering, or dealing with a pilot off the side of the ship. The windows (windshields? we do have a steering wheel, after all) all have sunscreens and wipers and washers available, and all are heated if necessary. You can see more than 180 degrees from the bridge, and can see 360 degrees if you step out onto those side decks. It is quiet on the bridge. We are well above the engine and the water here.
There are handholds all over the place, which is good because there are many things on the bridge for a passenger not to grab. Even though I’ve now been sailing for more than a month, I am not even close to any of the seamen in the ability to casually take on the roll and pitch of the ship when it is choppy, so I appreciate those handholds. I’m not falling down or anything like that, but it has not as yet become “natural”. On the bridge, I have to be careful about not accidentally grabbing the helm when we get surprised by a swell. Oops! They watch me.
Generally, the ship is not constantly actively sailed – that is, there’s not somebody standing with his hand on the helm all the time. But there is somebody always in the vicinity of the console. This morning we are out in the Pacific, away from land, and our 12-mile radar shows nothing, so the helmsman is standing back by the office, looking at the chop, and just keeping an eye on things. The Captain is on one of the computers.
There are two seats facing the control center, and each seat looks at a radar screen. There are three operating radars. There are two radars above the bridge and one on a small tower in the bow. Normally, at sea, the radars are set at either 6NM or 12NM (Nautical Miles) range. With a button push an operator can double or halve the range. A couple of days ago, on a choppy day, we set a radar at either 3 or 1.5NM and the whole screen lit up with hits, as we were detecting wave crests. Ha. Fun but not useful. Overlaid on the radar is our bearing, with a long line, and the bearing of the wind and the current, with shorter lines. The lines used to represent wind and current use their length to indicate, roughly, their magnitude. So you get a lot of information at a glance.
In addition to the radar scan, on the top and side of the radar screen are shown many other items. One example is drift, the difference between the bearing we’ve set with the rudder, and our actual movement, affected by wind and current. Also, in summary (the information is in other places as well) is engine rpm, our speed (which is usually a little different than expected due to drift), the rudder setting (degrees port or starboard from zero), and some information about communication that I don’t understand. The operator can change what shows along the sides. Trackballs and keyboards, secured to the console. No mice – they slide around too much. None of the screens on the console are touch screens.
The radars show dense weather and of course other ships. Connected to the radar is some sort of ship identification system. I assume there is a type of transponder, like for airplanes, but I am not sure. An operator can click on a ship shown on radar and get some additional information about it, so somehow that information is getting to the system supporting the radar screen.
On the charting system, right now, no land is shown. We see our position and bearing, and we see topo lines and numbers indicating depth. When we are near land the towns and cities are identified. We were close to Japan recently so I got a little lesson about the towns on Japan’s southeastern shores.
Our depth indicator shows, in big red letters right in front of the helm, the depth under the keel. I think that’s very important for some channel approaches. The depth indicator is not operating right now, as we have miles beneath us – we are near the Japan Trench, a pretty deep section. The chart says 6000 meters down. That’s a ways, eh?
In good weather I prefer being outside on the pilot deck, but often I enjoy the bridge. We have a long voyage across the Pacific and I intend to keep track of it a little bit. You’ll see that on the post called “Tracking Across the Pacific”. I started from just outside Shanghai and I’ll keep it up until we find ourselves anchored near Panama.