Cruise Ship Medical Papers

Cruise Ship Medical Papers

Gathering all my paper work together to return to ships, I stupidly thought I had another six months on my medical papers. Turns out, I only have four months left. Nowadays you have to return to the ship with a medical for the entire contract. You can’t renew your medical half way through your contract like before and the paperwork is only valid for two years. So, I’ve now got to renew my medical papers before I can return to ships. Is someone trying to tell me something?

What’s a cruise ship medical? Basically it’s a huge list and group of tests. First round is always the quick fire “yes or no” round where you’re asked about 60 questions like:

Do you wear glasses/contact lenses?

Have you ever had surgery?

Do you take any medication?

The only question they don’t ask, is what size underwear you wear!

You’ll also have a quick eye and colour blindness test.

Next are the blood tests. Usually the doctor will take about four vials of blood. The tests: complete bloody analysis (sugars, cholesterol, white and red blood cell levels etc.), sexually transmitted diseases (remember, cruise ships are knocking shops at sea!), drugs tests and finally a HIV test.

Round 3 consists of your reactions and getting your knee cap hit with a medical hammer, much to the doctor’s amusement! Also, one or two chest X-rays to confirm that you don’t have TB (tuberculosis).

If you’re female, you can expect a pregnancy test too. Don’t forget, you’ll also be signing an agreement stating you won’t get pregnant while working on cruise ships. If you do, you’ll be fired quicker than you can say “Wham Bam, Thank You Ma’am”!

That’s not the only thing girls will have to do. The check list also requires you to have a mandatory pap test. In my humble opinion, a trip to the gynaecologist for a job or to return to work is slightly degrading! This in many countries would be illegal or straddling between legal and illegal. Having said that, some doctors will just tick the pap test off, giving you the all clear, without you having to spread your legs! My first doctor did. Unfortunately, not all will!

Once that is done and you’ve handed over your money (usually around 3-500 US dollars), you’re ready to return or join cruise ships as a crew member/staff.

Prices obviously vary between countries and medical facilities. A friend of mine, Lee, had his medical papers renewed in Miami at the song of $300. Myself and many others used a recommended private doctor in England and paid approximately $480 (300GBP). According to Zoran, a previously team mate, it costs around €150 in Serbia.

Being in Uruguay, I didn’t think I’d have too much problems in renewing my cruise ship medical at a good price. How wrong can you get?

Going to my parent’s hospital, Mautone in Maldonado, I spoke to the head receptionist.  I know Magdalena very well due to my Mum’s extensive stays, treatments, tests/result collecting at the hospital. She’s the one to talk to! After about thirty minutes of waiting and Magdalena making a series of calls and running around for answers, I got a final price. Because I wasn’t a member hospital, I’d have to stump up a fee. Not a problem, I was expecting it. Jumping through a few hoops, Magdalena managed to get the price down for me: I was Uruguayan, lived in the country and area and my parents are “VIP” members. The final price, $750! That’s without the pap test!

Driving around, we stopped off a couple more medical facilities for prices. Unfortunately, no one could do the whole shebang. I’d have to go to numerous different clinics and labs for testing. Just to see a doctor to fill out two pieces of papers (Quick fire “yes or no” round) would cost between $60-80. No one had the slightest idea how much the blood and other tests would cost. They did, however, let me know that it’d be “very expensive”. There's also no telling when you'll get the results back.

My other Uruguayan friends and Hernan from Argentina all had their medicals done for free because they are members of hospitals/health clinics.

Back at home and speaking to my parents, it’s an extensive, time consuming process just to become members of Mautone hospital. Also, I’d have to have the majority of the tests done (you don’t get the results though) to become members.

Flights to the States are also on the rise, thanks to South America going into summer/high season and the monopoly the aviation companies flying from this part of the world have. Unlike Europe, there’s no competition between rival companies. A one-way ticket to Miami is $1,300 plus.

At the moment, I feel like I’m going around in circles and not getting anywhere. If I paid $750 for the medical plus a flight to the States (if I’m sent there) I’m looking at $2,050 minimum before I even start work and earning. Depending on the ship I’m sent to, that’s between 1.5-2 month’s work to get out of the red.

More than ever, I really wish I was back in Europe. It may be up Shit Creek without a paddle, but it certainly does have a large amount of advantages!

I’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand and not quite sure which card to play next. The big, multi-million Dollar question is: What do I do? Is it financially possible for me to go back to working on cruise ships? I wonder how most people in my position pay for it all. Keeping in mind I’ve just had surgery for a work related “injury”, it is really worth going back to cruise ships on both financial and health levels? Or will I just be burning a great hole in my pocket, especially if more surgery could be on the cards and messing up my wrist some more?

The Perfect Storm

The Perfect Storm

23^rd October 2012

After the calm comes the storm. The perfect storm.

During the night I was woken by the strong wind and rain playing havoc outside. Waking up early and standing at the kitchen window, armed with coffees, Mum and I stared out into the garden.

The tops of the pine trees were being tossed around by the wind. Pine cones were launched towards the ground, foliage was swept into the sky and every so often, loud thuds would confirm another tree branch had lost the fight against the raging wind. In the corner of the garden, an entire tree, one of the smaller pines, had given way. The roots spiking out of the ground, the tree was now feebly propped up against the fence. The swimming pool, once clean and crystal clear was now sporting a coat of dust, cones and pine needles.

Turning on the local news, the presenter confirmed Uruguay has issued a red alert. We are in the midst of a perfect storm. School, offices and local businesses had been closed down until further notice. Footage even showed a massive tornado ripping its way through La Rocha. The waves at Montevideo were surpassing the beach walls, engulfing passing vehicles. The winds, however, were at their strongest in Punta del Este (where I live), reaching top speeds of 181km/h.

Although it’s very nice taking photos of pretty, picturesque scenery, fit for a holiday magazine, it’s the bad weather that’ll provide a photographer with some of the most stunning and effective shots imaginable.

Grabbing my camera and ignoring the weather warnings to stay indoors, Mum and I jumped in the car. We decided to have a look at Punta Ballena (Whale Point) and work our way back to Punta del Este. The drive was slow. Parts of the road were completely covered in sand. The wind continuously threatening to take my car off the road.

Punta Ballena

Punta Ballena was a sight to see. The waves were ferociously crashing against the rockery. Parking the car near a quaint little cottage on the rockery. The eased up enough to allow me to get out with my camera. The enormous waves were higher than the single story building. The crashing waves sent up almighty sprays of water, enveloping the property. One side of the stone cottage was smothered in beige, brown sea foam. When the wind blew, the foam was swept away, scattering across the land as if it were snow.

Scrambling into the car when the heavens opened again. I drove a couple of hundred meters to the very point of Punta Ballena. Turning off the engine, a loud whistle filled the car and the wind rumbling against the vehicle. The car shook frantically from side to side, until you could almost feel it tilting us to the right. Both my Mum and I were genuinely expecting the car to topple over. After only a couple of seconds, it was enough for Mother Nature to let us know we weren’t welcome.

Cottage by the Sea

One of my favourite places in Uruguay to take photos is just off Punta Ballena. It’s a narrow strip of bay with a ragged wall of rocks running along either side. At one end is the sea, while at the other is a deep cave. Looking down, as we were leaving Punta Ballena, the monstrous waves were swallowing the area, sending a dense spray high into the air. A spectacular sight!

Driving down to my favourite beauty spot, it soon became evident that the high tide and colossal waves weren’t going to let us even step foot onto the beach. Sitting in the car, shooting out of the window, I tried to catch the waves smashing into the rocks only to be met by heavy sheets of rain. Watching the scene in front of us, I noticed the tide was coming in further. Soon the car park, situated about a metre above the beach, would be flooded. It was time to leave before getting caught out and stuck in the mix of mud and sand.

Ahead of us, the town of Punta del Este looked to be clearing. The tower blocks were peeking through the mist and the rain was settling down. Isla de los Lobos with no longer completely hidden in the overpowering fog.

 

The palm trees at the Conrad Hotel were violently dancing against the wind and the streets of Punta del Este were deserted. Signs had been flattened and left in tatters, spread out along the side of the road. Not far along, my Mum spotted something lying on the beach. Pulling over, it was an enormous sea lion, its face now bare bone. A few seagulls were certainly making a meal out of what was left of the sea lion!

Parking up just outside Punta del Este port, we had a walk along to the view point. The sea was lapping at the sides of the wooden walk way. The yachts in the harbour were swaying to and fro, making me wonder what it must be like to sail in such a small vessel during such weather. Taking a couple of photos of my Mum, holding on to her hat as the wind threatened to snatch it from on top of her head, we couldn’t help but stare in amazement at our surroundings. 

View Point

Just as we turned to make our way back to the car, a wave hit the side of the view point, splashing water up to our knees and squirting upwards through the gaps in the wooden floor panels. You couldn’t help but laugh as we waddled along back to the car, taking a couple of side steps as the wind took hold of us.

Hold on to Your Hats!

 

At Playa de los Ingleses, the road is roughly three meters above sea level. The waves were slapping against and over the concrete wall lining the beach and road, sending bucket loads of water onto the road. You’re completely blind for a couple of seconds as the sea water covers the windscreen. An Argentinian 4x4 had parked up on the side of the road closest to the sea. Inside children were screaming at the top of their lungs and laughing their heads off as a wave splashed up against the wall and over the car.

Parking on the opposite side of the road, I got out to take photographs. I wasn’t the only one. Mum staying in the car, winding the window down to get a better look. The car was now completely covered in sea scum, staining the windows, making them difficult to see out of. A massive wave hit the wall, followed by a succession of splashed as the wave made its way along the curved wall. It was absolutely amazing to see. It wasn’t long until the road was flooded!

Moving along, we parked up at the corner of Playa de los Ingleses to watch the waves make their way along the way. A different angle of view. My Mum’s window was still down and I could see a wave coming.

“Mum, don’t you think you should do your window up?”

“Oh yeah” she’s forgot the window was left open.

Not really seeing what was going to happen, she slowly started to wind up the window (Chinese cars without electric windows – great stuff!) and guess what happened next? Two waves crashed into each other, before hitting the wall, sending gallons of water up into the air and straight through the open window. Freezing for a couple of seconds, we were soaked.

Looking at my Mum, she started to laugh before saying something typical “I didn’t think that was going to happen!” Howling with laughter, soaking wet and somehow my camera, perched on Mum’s lap, was dry. What was Dad going to say?

All we can say is, he missed a bloody good day out. Best part of all, I’ve got the photos of Uruguay’s perfect storm prove it!

For more photos go to www.facebook.com/TicklePhotography

My Mum Punta del Este Port 

Home Bound and Delayed

Home Bound and Delayed

24^th August 2012

That was the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in days! I only woke up twice! Although I’m still feeling rough, I’m excited to be going home. I guess Room 13 wasn’t so bad after all. You can’t help but miss the comforts you usually take for granted; things like hot water, instant coffee (talk about letting the side down), a comfy bed you can stretch out in and the list goes on. It’ll be nice to see the parents too, although I have been speaking to them every day.

Yesterday: Looking Over to Brazil from Argentina

10.00 – Time to check out and begin the journey home. Rather than dragging my suitcase around with me (cobbled roads and suitcases don’t mix too well) looking for somewhere to have breakfast, I decided to just head straight over to the airport. Check in is a 13.45. Maybe there’ll be somewhere at the airport to grab a coffee and a gallon of water (my mouth and throat are like the Sahara Dessert)

Infected Mosquito Bites... Lovely!

10.30 – Arrived at Cataratas del Iguazu airport. There’s no checking in until an hour before the flight. There’s very little at the airport, a couple of precious stone jewellery shops and a handful of car rental offices.

Flight is on time, that’s the main thing. There’s a private jet going straight to Punta del Este. Do you think they’ll let me jump on board and join them? Even though Punta del Este is the closest airport, it’s very small and not a lot of flights fly there. Instead I’m flying into the main Uruguayan airport of Montevideo, the capital city.

Actually, I did check if there were flights to Punta del Este from Iguazu. There weren’t. I tried two separate flights (multiple destinations) – Cataratas del Iguazu to Jorge Newberry, Buenos Aires to Punta del Este, Uruguay and the flights were around $600-$1,000!! Crazy!

Looking around, I feel like a British tourist in Spain! Everyone is wrapped up warmly, some in thick jumpers and/or coats. I’m sweating like Michael Jackson in a Kindergarten, wishing I hadn’t worn jogging bottoms and sitting as close to an air conditioning as possible!

Call me strange but “people-watching” always fascinates me. Everyone’s different whether it’s their nationality, dress sense or just the way they carry themselves. So many females, mainly the Brazilians, dress up to travel as if it were a special occasion. Looking down at myself, I can’t help but feel like an utter slob. I chose comfort over style on most occasions, especially traveling! How can ladies wear such high heels to travel in? My feet hurt after just 10 minutes – and that’s when I’m just sitting down, breaking the shoes in!

11.25 – I’m a plonker! There is an upstairs. Originally I thought you had to go through security and customs to get to the upstairs area. Turns out, you don’t. All the gates are up here. All four of them. There are a couple more precious stone shops, some of the items are lovely but the price tag is enough to make Bill Gates gawk! Stopping off at the café/bar I bought a can of Pepsi for 18.50 Argentinian pesos, that’s about $4. Daylight robbery. You do have a great view from the café window though. It’s overlooking the airport runway. A LAN plane has just touched down.

14.05 – At my gate. There was a slight confusion at security as two flights are leaving from the same gate, within a short space of time and both heading to Buenos Aires. Those on Aerolineas Argentina had to step to the side to let LAN passengers go through first. We were then notified that our plane would be delayed by 25minutes because of the confusion and to allow the plane’s turn around. 

While waiting to go through security, I met an Austrailian couple. Poor buggers didn’t understand what the hell was going on so I translated that we were going to be delayed for 25 minutes and so on. I really do take being bilingual for granted sometimes. It’s going to take the couple 30 hours to get back home to Austrailia. “That’s 30 hours flying time, without the stops and change overs” I was informed. Ouch!

Just seen our plane touch down and it’s now taxiing over to the terminal. This is going to be one quick turnaround.

Fatigue is starting to kick in. I’m too scared to sleep on the plane in case I start snoring. The thought still disgusts me! I wish I was more like my Dad: Don't care about it, snore like a pig, wake up and blame it all onto someone else!

15.00 – Take off! There wasn’t a delay. Instead we were taken to another gate and started boarding straight away.  There are quite a few English speaking people on the plane, much to my surprise. I’m even sitting next to a rugby fan from the UK.

17.30 – The plane has arrived in Buenos Aires and I’m partially deaf! 

My last flight, from Buenos Aires to Montevideo has been cancelled. Frantically running around, I had to go downstairs to the arrivals hall for a new flight ticket. When I asked why the flight had been cancelled, the attendant shrugged “Your flight hasn’t been cancelled. Just changed”.

My new flight time is at 19.05.

The World Going By - Buenos Aires, Argentina

Rushing around, I was desperate to find somewhere to contact home and let my parents know about the change of arrival. Walking into an internet café, there was a minimum charge of $5 for thirty minutes. Finding a phone box, I tried calling my parent’s house only to discover international calls weren’t allowed. At an airport and no international calls?!

With nothing to do for the next couple of hours, I pootled around the airport. Passing a coffee shop, I popped into for a quick coffee and small bottle of water. I nearly fell over when the waiter asked for $10. Are you serious? A 500ml bottle of water and a coffee for $10! It’s daylight robbery at its best!

Looking on the bright side, at least I could park my bum for a while, relax and type up my blog entries. Having said that, I can’t wait to get home! 

18.20 – I’m slightly confused. My flight is due to depart in 45 minutes and there’s still no gate number appearing on the monitor. “On Time” continues flashing away on the screen. After spending so long in airports, I’m somewhat prepared for two scenarios. The first and most probable, my flight will be delayed. Secondly, the gate number will appear at the last minute and I’d have to peg it through security and to the gate.

Chubut, Anyone?

18.30 – Delayed! My new flight has been delayed by one hour and five minutes. That’s longer than the actual flight to Montevideo!

It’s becoming rather frustrating. First my flight is cancelled. I’m then put onto a later flight and now that has been delayed by an hour. Take off should now be at the same time I should have been touching down in Montevideo.

My parents are going to be wandering where the hell I am. They must be on their way to the airport now, as it’s a two hour drive from Punta del Este. Will they know I’ve been allocated a seat on another plane?

19.30 – Guess what? My flight has been delayed for the second time. This time, by twenty minutes. My flight is now due to depart at 20.30. Originally, I’d have been home in Punta del Este at 21.00 and here I am, still waiting for my final flight. To be honest, I’m expecting another delay. Not that it makes it any less frustrating.

My poor parents are going to be waiting for ages at Montevideo airport. Selfishly, I hope they are still there and will wait for me. Having said that, I can always get the bus home and ask Dad to pick me up at Punta del Este or Maldonado bus station. It’s a good job the flight time is only 45 minutes!

20.00 – Wahey! I’m finally at my gate, 13C. By the looks of it, the plane is going to be jam packed. Being slightly deaf in one ear is worrying me a little, mainly about taking off and landing. During landing on my first flight, I honestly thought both my ear drums were going to burst! Note to self: don’t fly next time you have a head cold, flu and/or ear ache!

20.05 – So close, yet so still far away. Another delay. The flight is now apparently due for take-off at 20.45. This palaver could test the patience of a Saint!

20.40 – Finally! We’re on the plane… only to be told by the Captain that there’ll be a further delay. The fourth delay, minus a cancellation! Apparently there’s a problem with Air-Traffic Control and the plane is currently waiting for take-off clearance.

The plane is small, but at least there aren’t any propellers in sight! Pretty much everyone on the flight is a businessmen, suited and booted and incredibly annoyed by the delays. I’m sitting next to one them. This guy has the new iPod clipped to his tie and a BlackBerry in each hand! Jammy sod!

My left ear is still playing up, feeling blocked with a throbbing pain going down my neck. Hard boiled sweets aren’t helping either. I’m terrified!

21.00 – Another update from the Captain. Yes, there’s a bit more of a delay. According to him, Air Traffic Control have been delaying flights all day and we’re waiting for a slot for take-off. It was also the reason why my previous flight was cancelled and everyone piled into this later flight.

I know I should have been thinking “it’s better late than never” but all that was swimming through my head was “I should have arrived home by now”.

21.15 and we’re taxiing up the runway!

Home and parents… Here I come!

Argentina to Brazil

Argentina To Brazil

22^nd August 2012

Last night didn’t exactly go smoothly. I was up half the night feeling ill. It must be a cold or flu coming on. Just what you want while traveling! All I want is my nice warm, comfy bed to snuggle up in and sleep.

We’re leaving Puerto de Iguazu, crossing the Argentinian board and into Brazil to Foz do Iguacu. The bus ride is only eight Argentinian pesos, about US$2. Eve and her friend Steph should be arriving late tonight.

Checking out of our little cabin at 10.15, we dragged our cases down the road towards the bus terminal. Quickly checking in a few of the bus companies, none had a bus route to Montevideo, or anywhere in Uruguay for that matter. One company suggested I take three long distance bus rides, two across Argentina and one to Montevideo. Total time on the bus: 30 hours. No, thank you!

It’s hard to believe that no one has a bus service to Uruguay. It’s the only South American country they don’t travel to. Ok, we know the place is a tiny dot on the map but, come on!

First stop on the bus was to pass through Argentinian customs. Luggage must go with you too. It’s a two minute stop, in one door, passport stamped, out another and back on the bus.

Two minutes later and we make our second, longer stop. This time at Brazilian customs. All of us had to fill out Entry Visa papers, get that stamped plus your passport and then wait for another bus. There was a large group of us waiting outside Brazilian customs for about 45 minutes for the bus to arrive. All of us huddled under a tree, staying out of the fierce sun.

Loading our luggage onto the bus again, we started the final part of the bus ride into Foz do Iguacu. Compared to the Argentinian side, the Brazilian is incredibly run down and surprisingly, there’s obviously a lot of poverty.

Not long after we’d entered Brazil there were a couple of surgeries offering everything from implants to botox to liposuctions! I couldn't help but smile to myself.

All of a sudden, the driver slammed on the brakes and the bus screeched harshly to an abrupt halt. Hernan and I were standing and had to quickly grab onto something, anything in front of us. I went crashing into a metal railing in front of me. Turns out, someone on a push bike had cycled out from a side street and crossed over the main road without looking! The bus very narrowly missed him!

Off the bus we had to find out where the hell our hostel is. Hostel Klein. We didn’t have an address or contact number. Hernan popped into the Tourist Information Centre at the bus terminal and got a pamphlet for Hostel Klein. It looks like it’s a well-known place. We couldn’t call as we didn’t have any Reales for the phone, so we decided it’d be best to just get a cab as it was too far to walk.

Walking down the road, looking for a taxi, we bumped into someone who worked for the Tourist Information Centre, who took us to the taxi rank and called for a cab. While waiting we were told a few do's and don’ts about Foz do Iguacu and Brazil.

In Brazil, it’s illegal to hail taxis and for a taxi to pick you up at the side of the road. This is apparently due to the large amount of illegal taxis, many of whom will rob you of everything. The only place to get a taxi is at a designated taxi rank.

Don’t get a taxi over the bridge from Foz do Iguacu to Cuidad del Este, Paraguay. Cuidad del Este is a famous tax free area, popular with tourists shopping for cheap electrical items. Many cross the Brazilian and Argentinian boarders simply to shop for the day. Getting back to the story, many taxis, while crossing over to Brazil or Paraguay, depending on which way you’re going, get held up by armed gangs, half way over the bridge. When you think of Brazil, you mainly think about thieves being tooled up with guns, but we are told they just carry knives, big knives and they won’t think twice about using them on you either. Nice to know! Needless to say, you’ll be robbed of absolutely everything! Of course, the taxi drivers, some legal while others not so legal, are in on the deal and will contact the thieves before setting off.

Fede’s Portuguese has amazed all of us. We imagined he spoke a fair amount due to working on the Mariner of the Seas during Brazilian season, but we certainly didn’t expect him to speak so much and have the ability to hold a conversation about anything other than taking someone’s photo!

Driving through the town, well, city, we headed towards our hostel. Foz do Iguacu is a rundown mess compared to Puerto de Iguazu, Argentina. Poor and run down. Finding the hostel didn’t take too long, but we weren’t exactly optimistic when we saw where we were heading. The area looked one step up from a shanty town, in fact, there were a few partially made (mismatch tin roofs, make shift doors etc.) houses around us.

Pulling up outside Hostel Klein, we were letting off more than a few nervous giggles and “where the hell have the girls booked us into?” The taxi driver really knew how to boost our optimism, telling us “This place isn’t safe. Do you want me to take you somewhere closer to the city centre? The city is dangerous, but this is even worse. You can’t go out here during the evening. Are you sure you don’t want me to take you somewhere else? Somewhere better?” Declining, we pulled our bags out of the car boot and headed towards the entrance of Hostel Klein feeling rather dubious, I might add.

Hostel Klein, the first thing that you notice about the place is the two metre high wall surrounding the perimeter. On top of that, are the two sets of wires on top of the wall with numerous warning signs “Electric – May Cause Death”. Ringing the intercom with camera, we were allowed through the large security gate to be met at the front door. As you can imagine, we were glowing with enthusiasm!

Going to our “room” to drop our luggage off, Hernan summed it up in one word: Orphanage. We were staying in the equivalent of an orphanage. One large room (which we later found out was originally a garage) with 13, small single beds lining the walls. In one corner was a small bathroom for us. 

As it’s out of season, the five of us, when the girls arrive, will probably have the room to ourselves. Thank God! I may sound like a snob, but I don’t fancy sharing a room with a bunch of strangers, especially with a Canon 5D Mark II stuffed into my backpack! As Hernan commented on the way over “you’re not cut out for this type of traveling.”

Next stop was the shopping centre to change Dollars to Reales and get something to eat. We were starving!

Imagine this room with twice as many beds!