Post the Forty-Third

Tour of the Ship Part II - Son of Tour of the Ship

Yep.  Swim-Swim is at it again.

More than a few days at sea, and Swim-Swim starts to get fidgety.  He gets restless.  He wants to be active.  He wants to be involved.

Often this manifests itself, as you know, in conducting a tour of some description.  And so it was that he suggested (insisted!) that we do another tour of the ship.

"But," says I, in a manner calm and reasonable, "we already DID a tour of the interesting parts of the ship on the way down."

"Why yes," counters Swim-Swim, in his persistent and persuasive style, "but we have yet to do a tour of the UNinteresting parts of the ship though!"

"There'll be a good reason for that," I suggest, helpfully...







But it was to no avail.  Swim-Swim must have his way, and therefore you must have a look at these somewhat less scintillating areas of the Aurora Australis.  I apologise most heartily about that, but what can you do?

So, let's kick off.  And what better place to begin the tour with the place I begin my day with?  Give it up, ladies and gents, for my bunk!

What a load of bunk.

When I was a youngster I always liked having the top bunk, and in keeping with my policy for remaining childlike in as many ways as possible, this has not changed.  Swim-Swim here is critiquing my reading material.  I am pleased to say that Swim-Swim's opinion on literature may safely be discounted, since he is a toy penguin.

On the other side of the bunk-curtain we find my cabin mates for the return journey.  On the left is Graham (left) and on the right is Tim (right).   (Or wrong). 

Forecasters?  No, twocasters.  Aha ha ha.  Ha.       Ha.                                         Look over there!

Graham and Tim both summered with me at Davis as meteorological forecasters, and we have had some fascinating discussions in our cabin, let me tell you!  Swim-Swim tends not to get involved, though, since it's all a bit over his head.  Coincidentally this is exactly the same cabin as I had on the way down.  So it's just like being at home.  Except not.


Time for the obligatory hallway shot.  (Swim-Swim thinks it gives him 'hallway cred' or somesuch.  Whatevs.)

Peripatetic penguin, perambulating.

Now we come to some stairs.  You may or may not remember from last time, but the penguin is of the opinion that people like to see the stairs.  My opinion differs from his, but this is his tour, so...

This penguin is of the opinion...

According to the sign on the door, these stairs are quite well, and are therefore quite safe to use, I assume.  Lord knows what form unwell stairs might take, but should the sign ever suggest the stair is unwell I will be sure to take a different route.

And, here are the stairs.   

Just when you thought we couldn't go any lower.

 Exciting, no?  I suppose they do, in fact, look quite well.


At the bottom of this set of stairs we find the torture chamber aerobic exercise equipment room.

The place to exercise some demons...  *ashamed*

Swim-Swim posed on the rowing machine here, meaning to imply (I suppose) that he is a regular user of it.  Trust me, the penguin has never ever used this stuff.  Do not be fooled by his wily ways.


At the back of the aerobic room is a sauna.  A sauna!  To the best of my knowledge it has not been used once while I have been on the ship, but hey.  There is a sauna on board, and here is a photo of it.

Sawn-off penguin in the sauna.

(Just as an aside, this is gripping stuff, isn't it?  Aren't you glad I acquiesced to Swim-Swim's demands?  Of course you are).


Leaving the sauna we are back out into the aerobic exercise room. You can see the sauna through that door there.

The ship's bike.  Not as salacious as you'd think.

You can also see Swim-Swim on the exercise bike.  It goes without saying that he has never used that, either.  For a start he can't even reach the pedals.  Excuse me whilst I roll my eyes.  Sigh.

Next door to the aerobic room is the weights room.

Bizarrely he affects an Austrian accent when doing this.  

Which Swim-Swim helpfully demonstrates by showing us all how he pumps iron.


Pffff!


Here is a more general shot of the room.

Insert a lame pun of your choice about 'weights' or 'weighting' here.  I'm too embarrassed to even try.

Weights at sea have to be really well contained in exercise equipment such as this, for reasons which I need not explain.  Imagine the chaos of flying lumps of metal in a heavy sea.  Very unattractive.  (Just like the contorted faces of the people using the weights in smooth sea).

By the way, Swim-Swim is actually in this photo somewhere.  Can you see him?  Where's Wally?


Returning up the healthy stairs for a couple of decks we find the telephone-booth-cum-toilet-paper-cupboard.  May as well make the most of all space on a ship, eh?

Toilet paper - very appropriate given the crappy phone reception.

I have used this phone to make telephone calls home.  Or, more accurately, to make attempted telephone calls home.  It uses a marine communications satellite, which amusingly seems to have the satellite version of a stutter.  Imagine the fun of trying to make sense of what people on the other end of the line are saying when you only hear every third syllable they say!  What jolly japes!

I gave up in the end.  I'm a quitter, I know.



By this stage of the tour the thrills and excitement were all becoming a bit too much for me, and I needed to break for a cuppa in order to gather myself.  After some uncomplimentary muttering Swim-Swim agreed that we could pop along to the mess for a short break.

On the way to the mess we passed the krill lab, and Swim-Swim paused to peek through the window at his old mates.  (See Post the Thirty-Fourth).  Neither Tasha nor Cath were around to let him in, so he had to satisfying himself with just that peek.

Too bad, how sad.  I wanted a cuppa.

A view to a krill.    (I am so, so sorry.  Really, I am).

Also on the way to the mess was the library, wherein we discovered ex-Super-Slushy Hannah creating works of art on her sketch pad.

Hannah of the Antarctic (with Swim-Swim of the Bombed Photo)

This photo is not strictly speaking relevant to a tour of the ship, I know.  Still, Swim-Swim had wanted to pose for a shot with Hannah, and he had graciously (*cough*) agreed to let me have a break from the tour, so why not?


This here is the part of the mess that people (such as myself) who wish to make a cup of tea or coffee might do so.  More exciting stuff, right?  Right.

Contain your excitement please.

 It's also a mini self-serve area for them what gets peckish-like outside meal hours, with a fridge and cupboards stacked full of delicious comestibles.

However, I wasn't there to... uh... comestibulate.  (That's not a word, is it?)  I was there to caffeinate.

Oh look.  Teabags and instant coffee.  I bet you've never seen those before.

All the while being supervised by your friend and mine, Swim-Swim.  As if he knows anything about making hot beverages.  Sheesh.


So my mood having been much improved by the break and the bev, we set out again on our epic journey of discovery. 

(You in the back, there!  Yes, you!  Stop yawning!  It's rude.)

Next stop:  the Instrument Room!  Hurrah for the Instrument Room!

Hurrah.

Or, at least, hurrah for the door to the Instrument Room.  I am not, nor have I ever been, an authorised persons.  And Swim-Swim isn't even a persons, let alone authorised.

Alas, all we are authorised to show you here is the outside of the door to the Instrument Room.  Sorry.  Well, at least now you can say you have seen it, which is more than could have been said before.

The torment is almost over - we're nearly finished.  Congrats for sticking with us this far!


Next stop, and just on the other side of the passage from the Instrument Room is... the Conference Room!

Oh look.  A table.  And some chairs.  Whee!

We have no idea what the purpose of this room is.  If you think you know, please write in and tell us!  Send your suggestion to:

    cluelesstwits@nobloodyidea.com.au




And finally, the uttermost stop on this penguin-driven tour of trivialities is here, at the expeditioner laundry.  Yep, that's right!  The laundry.

Here is a collection of industrial washing machines and driers that you simply have to see, apparently.  His Exalted Penginness is of the opinion that people need to see where I do my washing.

Swim-Swim comes clean at last.

Well, now you have.

You are now free to go.  Please be on your way with a song in your heart, and my most heartfelt apologies for having inflicted this on you.

I promise that the next blog post will be much less pointless.  Well, a little bit less pointless, anyway.