Country #138 and the one that could have been.

Here’s a riddle for you: how do four new countries become three new countries? If your answer includes annexation or strategic mergers between nations, you are on the wrong track. The answer is: by sailing with a pussy ass captain (or PAC for short). Let me explain. On May 15th, we pulled up to San Tome and Principe, as per our itinerary. I had set up a tour with the very highly reviewed Sipson Abril and was eager to step foot on country #138.

Due to the depth of the harbor, this was to be a tender port, where you take smaller boats to the actual dock. We were dressed and ready to disembark when the PAC announced that they were having trouble with ocean swells and the tender boats. He may not have realized that this particular vessel has windows. It was through these windows that I watched as the four tender boats lightly bobbed in the calmest waters we had experienced all voyage. 

If Capitan Comepinga (it was a 22 day cruise, I gave him many names) was struggling with what was essentially a kiddie wave pool, he really needs to look into a more land-based career.  After maybe half an hour of keeping us waiting, PAC announced that we would not be disembarking because he didn’t think it was safe. We all stared in shock- and I can’t stress this enough- at the stillest of waters. Lest you think I am exaggerating, I present you video of this alleged tempest. 

As can be expected, the ship was full of country counters- one woman was going to hit 100 on this voyage- who came on this ship expressly for the purpose of visiting hard to reach countries like São Tomé. Instead of visiting 4 new countries, I was now down to 3. This idiot fucked us. But not only did he fuck us, he also fucked many hard working people like Sipson, who were surely counting on making a good wage on that day. I was incandescent and remain furious to this day. He is fortunate I didn’t have the status to go to the Capt’s dinner because I would have surely spit it his soup. By the way, his name is Teo Radun from Croatia. If you look at the ship's staff directory, you only get his first name but he seems like exactly the kind of tool who would constantly google himself so I was willing to put in the extra work to get his full name. If you are reading this, Teo Radun know that you are one pussy ass captain.

Pulling away from Sao Tome...in calm fucking water. 

One of the many conspiracy theories aboard the ship was that he had done this intentionally to save the company money by sailing slowly and burning less fuel to our next destination. I’m not saying this is the case but the fact that we set off a full day early and still made it at the scheduled time to Ghana doesn’t help. Also, in looking up his LinkedIn, I found various articles of his canceling other ports through the years, so this appears to be his thing. 

Skipping Sao Tome resulted in us having 5 consecutive sea days. I should note here, that the staff (other than PAC, obviously) was amazing, keeping us fed, drunk and entertained the entire time. 

My attempt at making a balloon sword somehow turned into a balloon penis

On Day 6, we finally pulled into Sekondi-Takoradi, Ghana.

Prior to our arrival, I booked a tour of 2 slave castles and a visit to a nearby forest. Afro Nyuka tours had already informed me that with the ship’s schedule, we would only have time to do the 2 castles. By the time we were off the ship and waited for a couple that never showed up (RIP Bernard + 1), we were down to time enough to visit one castle. 

The issue was distance. Both UNESCO world heritage sites sit more than two hours from the port and cruise ships like to use the threat of leaving you behind to sell their overpriced tours, so no one was keen to take any chances. 

We were fortunate in that we had the charming Charles/ Kofi as our guide. He explained that Charles was his given name but it is a Ghanaian tradition that all males born on a Friday are also named Kofi. Following these rules, as a woman born on a Friday, I would like to hereafter be known as Berti/ Afia.

As we passed through towns and villages alike, he explained Ghanaian culture and traditions. If you think weddings are complicated, try getting married in Ghana. Even after you gather enough cows, woven cloth, cash and whatever else the bride’s family demands in the form of a dowry, you still have to worry about feeding a substantial portion of the town. By way of example, he talked about his best friend’s wedding. It was meant to be a small affair- only 300 people- but as weddings are open to anyone looking to score a free meal, 700 people showed up. Lucky for him, there is a portion of the ceremony where the MC, in this case with the help of the father-in-law, try to get people to donate money via various games/ raffles/ etc. The MC and in-law were a persuasive duo and the friend ended up turning a profit. On the flip side, Charles also had an uncle who had the misfortune of getting married on a rainy day. Everyone ate but didn’t stick around for the fund raising portion and the man ended up financially ruined. 

His stories and explanations were not only informative but they were also light-hearted and entertaining, which helped to balance the day. We were on a way to a horrific, brutally painful place. The Elmina Castle, which is terribly misnamed and should be known as the Elmina dungeon is where 400 years worth of colonizers, including the Portuguese, Dutch and British engaged in the business of trading human beings. 

It is a cold sobering place to visit and not everyone’s idea of a vacation destination but much like concentration camps, I feel it is important to bear witness to mans’ capacity for evil. I live in a state where our piece of shit governor is trying to change textbooks to diminish the monstrosities of slavery and even paint it in a positive light. If only everyone who thinks this is ok could see what I saw in Elmina, would they be able to so easily dismiss this not so distant chapter in history?

The castle guide explained the long journey that way too many human beings underwent just to get to the fortress. Many died along the way. Those that made it were separated into men’s and women’s quarter and placed into all too tiny spaces. 

We were shown the courtyard where the women would be assembled so that the governor (aka head colonizer of the facility) could stand on his balcony and choose the one that fit his fancy. The unfortunate woman selected would be bathed with well water and taken to his spacious quarters to be raped. If she refused, as many did because they were either married, wanted to remain chaste or just didn’t want to be fucking raped, they would be shackled to a cannon ball in the hot sun as an example to the others. 

The men didn’t fare any better. Any man who rebelled and tried to fight this grave injustice would be placed in the cell of no return, where they would be locked up with no food or water until they simply starved to death. Tell me you can see with your own eyes, the scratches in the walls made by these condemned innocents and still say slavery was not such a big deal. You just can’t. 

We were then taken to the door of no return, the point where they would be crammed onto ships to be taken to South America, the Caribbean or the good ole US of A. No one that boarded one of those ships ever saw their homeland again. Fucking horrific.

Today, many people have been able to trace their ancestry to this dungeon and have returned to honor their forebears. They often place wreaths with sorrowful notes acknowledging the suffering that took place within. Among those who was able to trace her roots to Elmina was Michelle Obama, who visited with Barack during his presidency. 

While we were unable to visit the Cape Coast Castle, the other slave dungeon, Charles informed us that it was very similar, only we had visited the oldest. This was confirmed by ship guests who had taken the NCL excursion. That one went to both castles and stopped for lunch. Even with the benefit of leaving before us and having a police escort, the last bus didn’t make it back onto the ship until 8:30pm. We, on the other hand, had to be back by 5:30pm. My question is, if you are selling an excursion that you know simply can’t be completed in the allotted time, why force everyone back early? Is it because the Capt is a PAC. 

That aside, I am grateful to have had a chance to visit Ghana, aka country #138. I had previously tried to visit independently but the visa process when arriving by air is pretty complicated (as opposed to by ship, where you can get a visa on arrival) but the little I was able to see and learn only strengthened my resolve to get that visa and return. Maybe then, I will even get a chance to crash one of those weddings.