English Teaching Story 3

This week I have created the blog, using a new video format! Let me know if you like it.

Osman chapter 12: Leaving the Ship

We arrive at the final chapter of the story of how I taught English on an oil ship. If you want to start at the beginning then click here.

Time is not on our side.

The weeks were now flying by. I printed in the radio room, saw Uzgur leave and another radio man come. Lots of new Scottish guys arrived as well, they were just as interesting as the others.

I continued to put up ads, about five to six every week but I saw some of them disappearing. I could feel a negative vibe from the crew related to the ads, but I had to put them up. One day the head of security came to me and formally asked me not to put them on the glass part of the door. The complaint was that they couldn’t see a person on the other side of the door. It was a legitimate complaint, so I moved them farther down on the door away from the glass.

They looked like this except more blood involved.

The next event close to leaving was that there was a fight. It was between two students, the only two students in one of the afternoon classes. Apparently one of them had told the other what to do and the one being told what to do took exception to being told what to do and a fight had broken out. The man who told the other man what to do bit him on the head and apparently ripped and twisted his flesh like a crazed animal until he bled. The two were separated, fired and kicked off the ship. I was later told that in the Ottoman Empire whether you start the fight, defend yourself or let the person punch you, that you would still be fired. Thus, if someone attacks you, you should beat their ass.

When the roads cross, which way do you go?

The time was coming for my departure and I was certain that I would be leaving on the PSV again. Then one afternoon I was called up to the radio room where I met the logistics coordinator. He told me the PSV I would be traveling on was actually going to be the helicopter and not to tell anyone, not even my company. It was quite the dilemma because my company would be arranging my flight. They needed to know the time I would arrive, and they needed to arrange a taxi to the airport. If I arrived at the airport and they didn’t know, they would wonder how I got there and why I didn’t take their taxi. I figured it was better to have the guy on the ship mad at me then my company. My company could fire me for lying which was more than the ship could do to me. So, I told them. Then the captain of the ship got mad at my company and the radio man, the logistics coordinator got mad at me and my company thanked me for telling them and then asked me not to tell anyone else.

Ok, so I wasn’t this excited.

Before I knew it, I was plugging ear plugs into my ears, putting muffs on and marching towards the helicopter, careful to avoid its rotating blades. The takeoff wasn’t as dramatic as a jet’s takeoff. The helicopter moved backwards and forwards a few times and then skipped off into the sky, ascending higher and higher. The water was deep down below, and the ship soon disappeared on the other side of the horizon. I looked down at the water and remembered what the radio man told me, “The helicopter training isn’t that important because if the helicopter crashes, you will probably die when it hits the water.” I mean it seemed like there was nothing to worry about now, except the helicopter crashing.

This guy didn’t wait.

We arrived at Antalya airport and quickly got through customs as we went through the VIP section. I had met an Ottoman guy on the top deck of Osman before leaving who promised we would hang out in the city center and leave together since our flight was at the same time. However, as I made it through security, he was nowhere to be found.

It is hard to burn 7 hours in an airport.

I had seven hours to kill in the airport. I took turns reading different books and watching people walking by. Halfway through the layover I went to burger king and ate my food as slowly as possible. Finally, it was two hours before my flight, so I was able to check-in.

The new Istanbul airport

When I arrived in Istanbul, I had one bag with almost everything I owned, no home and one person to contact. It was my boss’s brother, where I would stay until I found an apartment. He was the typical plump Ottoman man; he was friendly and as hospitable as possible, even though he spoke almost no English. My legs were wobbling on land and when I laid down to sleep on his couch that night, I could almost feel my bed still rocking. It was only when I looked up at the ceiling that I realized I was finally back on land.  

A big thanks for keeping up with the blog story! I hope you enjoyed it. This is the end of the story, I’m not sure where I will take the blog next. We will see next week.

Osman Chapter 10: Trials before Blessings

Here we are in chapter 10! This week many bad things will happen and then a good thing will happen at the end! If you want to start at the beginning then click here.

Nothing but blue to see, and the smell of sea.

The next morning there were no students at the level two six A.M. class per usual. With the free time I took the opportunity to go to the top deck. As I gazed out at the horizon the French warship was no where to be seen. The Ottoman warship was missing as well. I went back down to the bridge to do the daily printing and to learn about the most recent gossip about the warships.

Nothing but smiles.

Uzgur was smiling as I entered the bridge, he was talkative and in a jocular mood. The warships had agreed that both of them would leave and for now no military action would be made against Osman. I finished my printing and showed him the list of students who hadn’t come yet. He promised to take the list to the captain who would talk to the students individually.

The following day the captain came back with news that some of the students were too far behind and they didn’t feel comfortable being in the class. With the new crew, I had noticed that there were a couple of students that were so far behind that the class was almost impossible for them, so I wasn’t surprised. They would end up getting laughed at and teased by their friends and one of them had told the radio man that he couldn’t understand anything, so he didn’t want to come anymore as well. I decided that I would make an extra class on Saturday since there were no classes then. I called it “Beginner catch up class” or in Ottoman: “Super cok beginner ders”. I put up posters along with the normal crew list with their class times. I came up with a creative idea, but I made one mistake. I added two confused looking people and then speech bubbles where I wrote common English mistakes that Ottoman students make. I.E.: “How old are you?” “Fine thanks and you?” “I am very money” etc. The only problem was that this enticed some people aboard the ship to add their own bubbles.

The daddies of the coop right?

One person added “I love cock” and put it right above the confused girl’s head. I decided to report it to the radioman and asked him if I should write a focus card. These were cards where anyone on the ship could report a safety hazard or complain about something. He laughed and said “No, let’s tell the captain.” The captain also laughed and said there was nothing we could do because there was no way to figure out who had done it. He said to write back “Come to the OIM’s office (the captain’s office) and you’ll find the biggest one”. Then the radioman started to talk about how one of the helicopter pilots from Cameron had a large cock too and the captain asked him how he knew.

I decided to do nothing, I thought that writing a response might get me more responses and they might write on future posters for more entertainment. Half a day later the message was still up and the talk of the ship. One of the head guys on the ship asked me to scratch it out, but I had a better idea. You know if you turn the second “C” in “cock” to an “O” it changes the word to cook? So that’s what I did. Then I added “ing” on the end. “I Love cooking” it said, which was a little bit sexist since it was above the girl’s head, but it was better than cock.

The mess hall was like a frat hall, even though most of the workers were 40 to 50 years old.

I assumed people on the ship might write on the posters at some point, as whenever I heard the foreigner’s conversations, they usually talked about three things: “Women, cocks and masturbating”. These of course were the western foreigners on the ship. I sat with them a few times and it was silent when I sat down, that was until someone brought up one of the three topics. Then they could talk for hours. I still figured if cocks and raunchy conversations were the worst thing about the ship, then everything would be ok.

In theatre the broken leg is a great thing, on an oil ship: not so much.

However, there were soon injuries in successive weeks. First a guy broke his leg on the stairs. There were constant reminders in safety meetings about holding onto the rail, and in those same meetings half the focus cards focused on people walking up and down the stairs, with a coffee in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Perhaps they were holding the handrail with their foot and hopping down. This man was apparently carrying laundry down the stops and missed the last two or three steps and crashed down, and cracked his ankle, with a minor fracture. He claimed he was holding the handrail when he fell but nobody believed him.

These fleshy sticks weren’t meant to go in a grinder

I thought that would be the end of it, that maybe everyone would be on edge and extra careful about safety, but I was wrong. The very next safety meeting there were two more injuries. One man twisted his wrist and had to be taken to Antalya for X-rays. He returned in under forty-eight hours and was working again though. Then there was a man who got his finger stuck somewhere it didn’t belong. He also went to Antalya, but he wasn’t so lucky. Part of his finger was amputated after his glove got stuck in some part of a machine and tugged his finger in after it. It made me glad that I was an English teacher.

Cranky tears, know no age.

That was until the new crew arrived. The classes went well and were pretty typical lessons, but one class came in and they were overly pushy. Immediately complaining about reviewing old content that half of them couldn’t do anyways. Demanding that the class be ended early because they were tired and more. I was happy to let them leave about five minutes early. I wondered if the last few weeks were just subsequent hell weeks. Then there was an announcement. “Do not use the elevator, maintenance is being done on it.” Well, I didn’t think anyone would be using it anyway since it hadn’t been working for almost two months.

Pretty close to how our elevator worked.

What I imagine the Scotsman on the radio looked like.

It wasn’t but a day later where the message “The elevator is working, I repeat the elevator is working” came across the PA system. A second PA announcement followed “WOOHOOOOOO”. Perhaps it was even more “O’s” than that. Something good had finally happened, and in relation to this week I had to say “it was about time.”

Osman Chapter 9: Crew Changes

Chapter 9 is here! This week, there are crew changes on the ship, which cause chaos and a French warship shows up!

If it’s your first time viewing the blog or story then click here to start at the beginning of the story.

Ship men leaving, much like they did on Osman.

Now everything was falling into place. My daily habits and schedule were working perfectly together. I also knew all the students; their names as well as their true levels, so it was much easier to plan the classes. I hadn’t messaged Darren for almost a week and had every part of my routine down, including doing laundry and eating. Yet when I went into the classroom and looked at the crew members from all the crews, their test dates and other information there was something looming over my head; “February 24th, 25th and 26th.” These were the days when the new crew would come on board and by the end of the 27th; they would be mixed in with the other classes.

Trying to figure out the crew changes and curriculum with mixed crews felt like entering a matrix.

Some classes were behind the others, and now there would be crews coming who had already completed certain units in the book that would be added to the chaos. Now it was time to send lots of text messages to Darren again. It was my first time facing the crew change, so no matter how much I talked about it or planned for it, it was impossible to know how it would go. Crew member shifts were also changing for those who would be staying on board, so I was also guessing when they would come to class. For the two classes that would still have Crew A members I planned three lessons and had them ready based on different scenarios. Scenario A: The same students come but no new ones. Scenario B: the same students do not come, only new ones come. Scenario C: the class is mixed with both crews.

Things getting serious

Darren recommended that I head up to the bridge and ask the radio man about the different students. He could tell me who was coming on which day and what the shifts would be for the students who still be on board. The radio man worked with me over the next fifteen minutes checking all the students work times and dates of arrival. When I was about to leave, he told me I should go to the top deck, because there was an Ottoman warship patrolling along side the ship. Apparently due to threats coming from Cyprus and the European Union, the Ottoman Empire’s leadership had sent a warship to protect Osman while it was doing its exploration drilling.

Looks scary or sexy, depending who you are.

As I exited the stairwell and was greeted with the smell of the sea, I could see the towering metallic structure of the ship, making its way almost to the top of Osman’s top deck. Gigantic guns ready for action, Osman men in camouflage patrolling and running about, and others standing at attention with rifles awaiting orders. All of the sudden, there was a radio announcement blaring out of the warship’s speakers. It was in Ottoman, so I couldn’t fully understand it, but they seemed to be pointing towards the horizon. I squinted and tried to peer through the piercing sun and the white water that was flashing and reflecting to see. There was a tiny black dot on the tip of the water, far in the distance, where the water met the sky.

I was awoken at four A.M. with a siren shrieking. There was an announcement about the dot on the horizon. It was a French warship, which was coming at full speed towards Osman and its warship. The radio man went on saying that we should be ready at all times for an abandon ship drill, should anything happen. When seven A.M. rolled around there had been no other announcements, but I was awoken by another shrill noise, my alarm clock. In the class I had a stroke of luck, no students came. Then when ten AM came, only old students joined the lesson. A bit more relaxed about the crew change situation I went to the bridge to see how the warship situation was going.

A lot of action on the top deck.

The radio man Uzgur looked serious. No smile was on his face and he was furiously typing on his computer. He couldn’t take it any longer and went out onto the deck to smoke a cigarette. He apologized for not being friendly when I came in. He told me to look out onto the water and there you could see the French warship, now only a hundred meters or so from Osman. Directly fifty meters from the French warship’s guns were the Osman warship’s guns, they were both pointed at each other. Neither ship had much commotion on it, with men standing at attention and ready to take orders. Uzgur said, there was a lot going on, on the radio. There were a mix of threats and commands which were mostly being ignored for now. The French ship was demanding that Osman leave Cyprus’ waters. The Ottoman’s were demanding that the French warship leave The Ottoman Empire’s waters. Then they went from demands to threats and from threats to commands. Then the cycle continued but there was still no movement on either of the ships.

The main sources of entertainment on the ship were the gym and sleep.

I wanted to continue watching the exciting stalemate, but it was about twenty minutes until my third class. I went back downstairs to the classroom. When one o’ clock arrived, there were only crew B students. I did my normal thing, going to the gym, showering and relaxing until dinner came. At the dinner table there was the latest gossip about the warships around the dining room’s tables. The French warship and the Ottoman warship wouldn’t budge. I finished my dinner as quickly as possible and headed upstairs for the final class.

Mixing it up in the class like this. Unfortunately there were no girls though.

Seven P.M. swung by and the class was a mix of one crew B student and three crew A students. It was also a class mixed with crew A students who were in different units. My plan for this scenario had been to do the unit that was the furthest behind, and the more advanced students didn’t seem to mind. As the students left the class at eight fifteen, I was able to relax. Now I knew where all the students were and planning the lessons would be easier.  The day was over and now I felt more comfortable with crew changes. The other ones would be much easier. The only problem at this point was the students who wouldn’t come to class, yet is extra free time on one’s hands ever a problem? I went up to my cabin for the night. The warships suddenly crossed my mind again, but then I relaxed. I was sure they wouldn’t do anything. Thirty minutes later I crawled into bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep.

Osman Chapter 8: The Radio Room

Welcome to the weekly blog! This week we continue with the story of my experience being an English teacher on an oil ship. If you want to start at the beginning of the story to catch up, then click here.

Our radio man wasn’t this handsome, but he was trying to be.

Before I even left Adana for the ship, the other teacher “Darren” had messaged me on WhatsApp and advised me to have a good relationship with the radio operators. Another radio operator named “Samet” had also messaged me, telling me about the PSV. Having a good relationship with the radio operators wasn’t going to be my only goal, but everyone. Because on a ship of even two hundred men, I assumed that gossip could get around quickly, and any bickering or fighting wouldn’t have much room to bounce around. Therefore, I greeted every person I saw on the stairs or in the hallways and chatted at every opportunity. In a realm full of gossip, it’s best to let them know everything about you, rather than to be a mysterious figure followed by many rumors.

Loads of a stairs. A dream or a nightmare, depending who you are.

My first day going up to print, I climbed the four flights of stairs and met another radio operator, this one was called “Uzgur”. He turned out to be a very talkative and friendly one. I often stayed up on the “bridge” talking and hanging out for a good thirty or forty minutes when he was there. The first few trips he helped me print or copy what I needed but soon I had mastered the printer and he only talked to me as I copied. There was also a door with a deck where people working in the radio room and bridge could smoke. I called it “NAV deck” a few times but some workers got upset at me and said I should call it “The bridge”. Before I knew it, it was part of my routine; climbing the four flights of stairs, copying, and talking with the radio operator. Due to the time I was usually ready to print and their shifts; it was usually Uzgur. I was fine with this as he was the most open and friendly of the radio operators.

Syria. It’s hard to find a non-political map nowadays.

I also chatted with the DPO, which was a fancy name for the person who kept the ship aligned properly. The acronym actually stood for “Dynamic Positioning Officer”. The first one I met was named “Daane” with two As. He was from the Netherlands, but Samet used to joke around with him and say he was from Syria. He didn’t appear to like the joke, but Samet really enjoyed it.

“I have so many things to show you”

I learned a lot about the devices and instruments in the radio room as Samet showed me how to zoom and change the cameras and Uzgur showed me different mapping, tracking and frequency devices. He also showed me how to work the public announcement (PA) board and how to change it so the user would send a PA everywhere including the accommodation areas. The PA announcements were usually sent to the working areas and only the drill PA announcements were broadcasted everywhere.

What my friend was imagining.

Another thing I liked to do in my free time was to watch the waves and look at the sun; taking many pictures of them as they changed, or fascinated me. I asked Uzgur more about the waves and how they were measured, so he showed me the measuring system. It was based on the wind speed and the current. The first time we checked the waves they were two meters high! I told a friend on WhatsApp and he almost had a heart attack. “STAY AWAY FROM THE SIDE OF THE SHIP! HOW IS IT STILL AFLOAT?” he panicked.

What the sizes were actually based on

However, they weren’t two meters high in the air, they were two meters on the wave measuring scale. The radio operator told me that there were different kinds of waves. Ones that were small in size but moved quickly, others that were medium sized but moved slowly and lastly there were giant waves that moved the slowest. The strongest waves were the small ones that moved quickly. The measurement had more to do with strength than it did height. At night they had observed waves at eight meters!

Those who seek knowledge will always go farther than those who don’t.

I thought about it the next day while watching the waves again. I liked to go out onto the open area of the ship and watch them. How high were the ones today? Later in class a student guessed that they were one point six meters. As he and the others left the classroom, I stood up and looked out the window at the waves once more. Then it occurred to me. In the classroom I was teaching Uzgur English but in the radio room he was teaching me about the waves. No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always be teaching someone one thing and learning a different one from someone else.

Osman Chapter 6: The Abandon Ship Drill

Welcome to this weeks blog! We are continuing the story of my life on an Ottoman oil ship as an English teacher. This week I experience my first abandon ship drill. If you missed the beginning, here is the first episode: Prologue.

Wht my class often felt like….

The second day with the level three students was another easy one. A single student came at seven AM and then two students came for the seven PM class. No students at ten AM and again no students at one PM.

Ok he looked a little bit friendlier than this.

Around midday a knock came at the door and a large student with glasses came in to talk to me. He looked like a guy who liked to talk, and that turned out to be true. He came in and talked to me for about fifteen minutes and then left. The day was pretty quiet after that; I started my gym workout, edited one book and did the level three class at seven. As I was putting everything away and preparing to lock the class up for the night, I remembered that there were certain emergency drills on a weekly basis. I tried to recall where I was supposed to go. There was one where I had to go to the cinema and sit on the right side, then there was another one where I had to go to the lifeboat. I had completely forgotten the deck, but I had a faint memory from my tour with Staffen, he had said that I should go to lifeboat 2.

When all the stairs and hallways look the same, how do you find anything?

As I walked up the stairs, I ran into one of my students named “Vahap”, he was a welder from my level two class. I asked him which deck it was and he told me “Deck B”. I felt a sigh of relief and continued up the stairs.

Everyone’s favorite time.

I woke up and it was Saturday, a more relaxed day with no classes. Then I remembered that I had a student named “Barak” who needed to take an exam, because he had had to leave the class early the previous night. So, I got up around eight thirty and went to the class. After giving him the exam, the day was pretty quiet. I filled out the reports and prepared the lessons for Sunday and Monday. This day I wrote one poem and edited both of my books then around seven PM the student with glasses returned.

Is this your gourmet cheese?

His name was “Serkanhan”. I had previously tried to learn Polish and the name for cheese was “Ser” and kan, was like “can” in English, so this is how I tried to remember his name: “Cheese can”. He talked to me for about fifteen minutes and then told me that there was a drill tonight and asked me if I knew where to go, I told him lifeboat two on B deck. He said “wow”, and added that most people didn’t usually know where to go.

Hello sir, what beautiful music you have. Would you mind turning it down though?

I was preparing to leave around nine o clock when the dreaded screeching noise came. It sounded like a giant alarm clock that you wanted to slap and never hear again, but this giant alarm clock never stopped beeping. I calmly followed a man into the cinema room, and we were the only ones there. Then an announcement came “This is an abandon ship drill, please go to your primary muster point”.  The guy next to me jumped up and yelled “oh shit, primary muster point?”.

I often felt like I was on the Titanic.

My thoughts exactly, “Oh shit, primary muster point? B deck, right?” As I headed up to B deck, lots of people were running past me, many of them with life jackets, the further I went up the stairs, the less people I saw. It was apparent that I was going the wrong way, and I couldn’t find a door to go outside. I asked a man, who was in a hurry, “Lifeboats are on B deck right?” His answer was “No, follow me.” We clambered down the stairs and then I realized we had to go to “A deck”, not “B deck”. I also needed my life jacket, “Should I go back up two flights of stairs and get it?” I asked myself.

What an amazing device, I wonder who invented it?

Then I saw a locker filled with lifejackets, so I grabbed one. After a few moments of figuring how to put it on, I turned my card around and stood in line. We stood there for what felt like forever, and there were still people missing. They sounded the alarm again and this time it kept going for five or six minutes.

Scotland. What a beautiful country, but what the fuck are they saying?

The whole time my group was silent except for two Scottish guys, who spoke in thick dialects. “Aye did’yeh se’de farse down by de were-well-e?” “Naw’r deh stret far’lo deh begg’in.” “Seh deh Mester Flackersnap slepen on deh shep en’de Pharoh Islands?” I got “Mister Flackersnap” and “Faroe Islands” and that was all I understood. These guys continued to talk throughout the drill and finally the radioman reported that only three men were still missing. Four minutes later a dozen guys came walking out and shortly after that the drill was finally over.

Me, almost every night that I was on the ship.

Like all nights, I went back up to my cabin to go to sleep. Now I knew where to go, hopefully subsequent drills would be much easier.

Osman Chapter 3: Siem Sasha

Siem Sasha is one of the Port Supply Vessels (PSVs) that bring supplies to the oil ship Osman.

One of the most exciting parts of a flight, when the plane lands.

The plane’s wheels rolled along the tar-mac and soon I was exiting the airport. There was a man waiting with a “UNG” petroleum” sign as had been promised. UNG was the oil company that my English teaching company had a contract with. “UNG” stood for Uzbekneftegaz and it was an up and coming oil company. At the time I started work on the oil vessel, they had around one hundred thousand workers and 102 of them were working on Osman.

A look at Konya-Alta, which is near the port in Antalya.

The location of the port on a map. The port is in Liman.

The man drove me towards the port and as I talked to him, he had several questions; questions very similar to those from the taxi cab driver. Since he seemed friendly, I thought I would use that to my advantage. I told him about moving to Antalya and looking for places there. He pointed out the different districts as we drove across the city. First there was Lara, then Kepez, then Konya-alta, then Sarisu and finally Liman. The main thing that caught my eye during the drive was the mountain range and some of the peaks and mini peaks were quite close to the houses. I immediately thought about climbing some of them and my imagination started running wild.

An aerial view of the Antalya port terminal.

We arrived at the port’s gate and the security guard asked for documents and then asked me to step out of the vehicle. After some conversation between the driver and the guard, the driver got my bag out of the van and sped off. The security guard scanned my passport a few times, my Turkish resident card, he phoned someone and then finally let me through. There was a long sidewalk that led to a shipping area and then there was a terminal a little farther down the road. I was directed towards the working area that had a cafeteria, bathroom and a small lounging area. Beyond these rooms there were many cubicles. At this time, it was a little past nine thirty in the morning and I would end up sitting on the couch for several hours before lunchtime.

This lobby is a bit more luxurious than the one I was waiting most of the day in.

People came and went often, and a few people sat on the couches and conversed in Ottoman and took frequent smoking breaks. I spent the time snoozing and using up the last of my phone’s Internet minutes in between the ten to fifteen-minute snooze sessions. Close to four P.M. a man came and showed me and two other Ottoman guys a safety video on how to use a loading machine that would transport us from the Port Supply Vessel (PSV) to Osman. Then he asked us to sign a document and I asked him where to sign.

Oh. Hi.

Shortly after signing the document, one of the two Ottoman men started talking to me. He said he thought I was Ottoman this whole time, at this point around five hours, and that is why he hadn’t spoken to me. We talked for ten minutes and then went back to the cafeteria for dinner. It was a typical Ottoman dinner; a bowl of soup, bread, and an option of stuffed peppers or stuffed eggplant. A few hours after dinner we were told that the vessel might leave in the early morning or the next day at noon. We could go to a hotel and return at noon and risk missing the boat, or we could sleep on the boat.

The Ottoman guys were upset for some reason and conversing, but I agreed to go. Shortly thereafter they also agreed to go. We waited in the security area for some time before a guy came to check our passports and let us on the ship.

The gang-plank to Siem Sasha.

The look of the dock in the daylight.

The first thing I saw as we exited the terminal onto the dock was the moon and stars sparkling on the water; and a white and red colored ship gently rocking back and forth in the water. There were a few men with hard hats walking along the dock and in the distance was a metal ramp with ropes and metal forging the walk way. It was a gangplank.

As I looked around the ship I found a plaque and other things on the walls.

A health poster which included advice on how not to get Ebola.

I walked up the gangplank behind the others and we entered the small hole to get onto the ship. Inside there was a ship worker waiting with a sign in list. The Ottoman guys shared one cabin and I got another cabin to myself. We were given a tour by a Ukrainian man who turned out to be the second mate of the ship. He showed us the mess hall, which was a small open room with four or five tables, a counter with leftovers and empty steel pockets for the fresh meals. He told us the mealtimes and then showed us the lounge and smoking lounge. It was around ten P.M. so we all headed to our cabins and went to sleep for the night.

My first breakfast on the PSV.

There were lots of stairs leading up and down; the walls in the hallways gave barely enough space for two people to walk past each other. I finally found my cabin again; it was next to some kind of cleaning trough. Inside it was pitch black with the lights out so I kept one of the reading lights on while I slept. I could feel the water below rocking my bed slightly but due to the super long day, I didn’t have much trouble sleeping. I woke up again around four A.M., then six A.M., then 8. I wondered if the others had woken up yet, and so around nine thirty I finally got up out of my bed. After rummaging through the kitchen area for a few minutes I found a few things to eat. There was bread, sausage, cheese and a few onion rings. To my surprise the two Ottoman guys came up the stairs, they had just woken up too. We all ate together and then spent the rest of the day waiting.

I took a stroll around and took a look at what was in the loading area of the PSV

One of the Ottoman guys

A sign that could use some help

The ship never left the dock and we were still waiting by the evening. We spent our whole time in the smoking room, and I discovered their names were Barak and Talan. Barak was from Hatay originally and Talan was from the eastern part of The Ottoman Empire near Georgia. Barak spent the time playing Fifa on the PS4 and Talan spent his time watching videos on Instagram. There were frequent breaks for both them to have another cigarette.

The look from the back of the PSV as it left the dock.

What the PSV probably looked like from afar, as it bobbed up and down among the waves.

We spent another night on the ship and this time I had a harder time falling asleep, as I wasn’t that tired. The next morning, I got up again around nine thirty, but Barak and Talan didn’t come this time. I spoke with the chef who was Ukrainian and several other of the crew members. There was one from Russia, one from India and the rest were from Ukraine. Around ten or eleven the Ottomans came up for breakfast and then smoked. I spent most of the time learning the Russian alphabet on my phone, Barak played fifa on the PlayStation they had in the smoking room and Talan watched videos on his cell phone. By evening time, the ship was finally moving. We all ran outside and watched as the port, the mountains and all the buildings got smaller and smaller. I could feel the ship rocking side to side and had to learn how to walk properly. On this night, I could really feel the water rocking below the ship as I slept. It was as if the waves were touching my back.

Confident on the outside, screaming on the inside. Getting tucked into the frog machine.

By morning, I kept waking up every hour or so after six, because I was sure someone would come knock on my door, telling us we were going to be transported to Osman, but no such knock came. I had another breakfast, another lunch and was preparing to have another supper when we were told to get our bags and head to the main deck. They were loading cargo and the crew told us that we would have to wait until all the cargo was loaded. Then about ten minutes later, they changed their minds.

Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of the frog machine being brought onboard, but it is done the same way as this piece of cargo.

All three of us put on life vests and climbed inside the “frog” machine. The frog machine was a device about seven feet tall and shaped like a bullet. It had four seats and bars that you had to hold onto while being buckled in. The frog machine lifted us high in the sky and the boat looked tiny from above. I wondered to myself what I would do if the line snapped. If I unbuckled quickly and treaded water for three days, I might survive.

One of many new staring eyes, as I made my way to the correct place on the ship.

The line didn’t snap, and the machine lowered us down to the top deck of the ship called “Osman”. We were finally there after three days of waiting. This ship was huge in comparison to the small PSV boat. It reminded me of the titanic, with so many decks, stairs and rooms. I made sure to keep within a few steps of the Ottoman guys as we went to check in. We left our luggage in the radio room and were told to come back for a safety briefing in thirty minutes. I was supposed to find “C deck” and room number five hundred and thirty-eight. It took some time, but I finally found it.

Osman: Chapter 1: Leaving Adana

Chapter 1 takes place in Adana, where my journey began.

I sat in a dark room, and with each sound of a car driving by my ears perked up. With each car stopping, doors slamming then followed by voices I slowed my breathing and waited to see if they would come to my door. I was leaving my company and they knew I was leaving but they didn’t know how soon. I had lied and told them I was in Istanbul and that I would be back on Monday. They were trying to force me to pay several thousand Ottoman Lira for payments they had made while I was at their school. Therefore, from the evening time until late night I left my light off in case they came by to check and see if I was there.

A picture of a kro I found on google. Not my landlord though.

There was also the landlord. He was an ignorant man, yet very strong with a short temper. A typical “kro” from Adana, who would walk around town with prayer beads in his hand, attend Friday prayer but that was as far as his religious life went. He had been one of the reasons I was leaving, taking months to fix basic needs and as his apathy ascended, so did the company’s apathy. If he came early, then I would have to come up with a story to tell him about why the company hadn’t paid the rent or the monthly bills, and how I didn’t owe them.

I eat a lot of vegetables.

It was around seven pm in the evening, when I decided to cook something for dinner. I only lit the room with the cooking stove’s light and cooked a chicken salad. As I sat down at the small table in the center of my living room there were footsteps at the door. My neck craned to the left and I peered towards the sound. But the steps continued to the neighbor’s door. I was on the first floor of the apartment and had one neighbor on the right side. With the chance of someone else coming, I switched the stove light off again. The only light now was the glare from my Alien ware laptop’s screen. It had been my only source of entertainment for the past week or so. I was mostly writing, editing or playing games from time to time, if the Internet allowed it. That was another reason I had started looking for a new job. In my only free time, I came home to write and then any leisure time was spent looking at a loading screen or pressing reconnect.

Ah a calendar, one of the worst inventions of all time.

Soon I would be free. I only had to make it forty-eight hours and I would walk out the door with my bags, take a taxi to a hotel, and then stay there seven days before I headed to Antalya. That was another problem. When I left the apartment, the landlord would see me with two large traveling bags and might come asking about the rent or where I was going. I looked up hotels nearby and planned to go there a day early if I could find one.

He’s saying “yok”.

Thus, I walked out around noon to search for the ones I had found on my phone’s map app. There was a nice hotel about half a kilometre away but when I arrived at the reception desk nobody spoke English and when I asked them about a room, they waved their hands left and right wildly and said “yok”. That of course means “no” or “none” in Ottoman. I would have to stay in my apartment for one more day and leave in broad daylight and hope that my landlord didn’t try to chase me down.

Ok, so I wasn’t wearing flip flops…

By noon on the day I would leave, there had not been any knocks on the door and all my things were packed. I prepared my two bags in a way that I could grab them quickly and leave down the steps as fast as possible. As I swung the bags out the door, I put the key in the keyhole and left it there. Then I clambered down the steps and walked at a hastened pace down the road. There was a commotion on the balcony and yelling. I walked casually as if everything was fine and kept going. Some moments later I was rounding the corner, crossing the street and going down another. I finally felt free and only had to make it to the corner where the taxis waited every day.

A typical Turkish cab driver. Friendly and chatty.

If they had seen me, they had been too slow, as it wasn’t long before I was sitting in the front seat of a rolling taxicab and being asked questions in broken English. They were the most popular questions I heard while living in The Ottoman Empire. “What’s name?” “What are you from?” “You like Ottoman Empires?” “Why Ottoman?” For the next twenty minutes of the taxi drive I spoke in broken Ottoman to him and changed my English to a broken version and we conversed all the way to the hotel.

AH look at the beauty, I can almost smell it.

The cab drove down road after road with rubbish on the side of the road and buildings with such a lack of maintenance that it looked like it had recently been through a fire. You could smell the smog in the air, and we stopped just short of a warehouse. There was a sign pointing around a corner that read, “hotel parking” to the right of the warehouse. Right before you turned into a car garage there was a sign that said: “Empire’s Lux”. I thanked the cab driver and once we confirmed that it was the right place, I took my bags inside. As he sped away, I opened my nostrils and breathed in the smog, yet in this moment it didn’t smell like smog to me. It smelled like freedom. It smelled like a new adventure.

Osman: Prologue

A story of my adventure on the Ottoman Empire’s first oil ship as an English teacher.

The Ottoman Empire in 1914.

The year is 2019 and The Ottoman Empire remains intact. In the year 1914 the Ottoman Empire failed to join the Central Powers even though they had a secret agreement with them. German and Austro-Hungarian officials were both shocked and angered by this but had their hands full with the Allied Powers. However, these Allied Powers were on edge due to the uncertainty of what the Ottomans would do. Thus, in the autumn of 1915 Mehmet V, the sultan of Turkey at the time, was assassinated by Greek and British agents. Ismail Enver Pasha took over the country and declared a state of emergency. While remaining neutral during World War I, The Ottoman Empire started to see a huge descent in their economy’s efficiency. In a meeting between military officials, including officers as low as lieutenant, they began to discuss the country, the economy and drastic changes. The first step of action was to give Arabic states autonomous freedom, while The Ottoman Empire still controlled their foreign policies. The next step was to modernize the country.

Mustafa Kemal

One young officer by the name of Mustafa Kemal, caught the eye of the grand pasha Ismail Enver and he was allowed to start a committee which worked solely on the modernization of The Empire. Over the next decade they improved their education, added more modern fashion and religious ideals to the country. In 1923 Ismail Enver Pasha retired as leader of The Ottoman Empire and appointed Mustafa Kemal the leader. Mustafa Kemal continued his work towards modernizing the country and also took up the path of secularizing it. He banned certain religious garments and put focus on less religious subjects in schools. He also created a more modern form of writing which made it easier for Ottoman people to read and write. With the death of Mustafa Kemal in 1938, the country decided to do away with their authoritarian government style and attempted to copy a western democratic system. From the 1960s to the 1970s they also gave each Arabic country their own true independence.

Osman traveling through the Mediterranean Sea

In the year 2019 The Ottoman Empire is on a quest to find oil in the Mediterranean Sea, under the orders of their new president Recep Tayip Erdogan. They have just recently sent out their first oil ship named “Osman” to do experimental drilling. The purpose of the drilling is to see what is in the waters near The Ottoman Empire and around the island of Cyprus. The country of Cyprus has complained but the European Union does not support them, and The Ottoman Empire ignores them. Half the crew on Osman is Ottoman and the rest are a mix of different foreign nationalities. Many of these Ottoman workers lack the English skills that are needed to communicate with the foreign workers. Therefore, they have created an English program on the ship and hired several English teachers to teach in the workers off hours. In this book I hope to tell you my tales of working and teaching English on The Ottoman Empire’s first oil ship: Osman.