On the Maersk Kithira bridge, nestled on one side of a bank of navigation screens, Roy Whelan keeps a map of the Arabian Sea. At first glance, it seems rather innocuous, a diagram of the navigation channels in the bustling waters linked by the coasts of East Africa, Oman, Pakistan and India. It is only when I take a closer look and see the words “Anti-Piracy Planning Chart” etched in one corner that its true purpose becomes clear.

“Throughout this area we are in danger of being attacked,” Whelan said neutrally, running his finger along the Gulf of Aden, a wide channel leading to the Suez Canal. “It’s a heavily protected area, but it’s also a magnet for pirates because they know all the ships will be there. All they have to do is get there before the Marine.”

Whelan is now in his 40th year at sea and his 16th as a captain with Maersk. A well-trimmed 55-year-old man with a cropped mustache, round-rimmed glasses and a cheerful demeanor, he bears no resemblance to the gruff, weathered sailor I had vaguely imagined he would be. “Maybe I should let my beard grow,” he said, half apologizing.

Hopefully the anti-piracy card will not be implemented today in the port of Felixstowe, where the Kithira, an 80,000-tonne vessel carrying 2,500 containers, makes a 27-hour layover. From the vast hull painted in sky blue to the 12 imposing pistons at the back of the engine room, the scale of everything is mind-boggling. Outside, three enormous gantry cranes roar at breathtaking speed, slamming 40ft sea containers in and out of the ship’s colossal hold like wooden puzzle blocks.

All of this piracy talk sounds a bit fanciful on the Suffolk winter coast. Yet as one of the two captains assigned to the Kithira, Whelan can rarely afford to ignore the threat he poses. For six months of the year, her job is to deliver the ship’s cargo as safely and economically as possible on her scheduled round trip, starting with Jebel Ali in Dubai, then calling in India and Oman. before going up the Suez Canal to Algeciras in Spain and to the major ports of the North Sea, after which it returns to Dubai via Jordan. It’s a program that means he and his crew spend three out of seven weeks in pirate-infested waters.

During this time, the ship goes on full security alert, which essentially means the crew closes the windows and locks themselves in. cargo ships. Is this a state of affairs that he would like to see rectified? “I would,” he said, categorically. “The frequency of attacks is increasing.

In the Gulf of Aden, by far the biggest threat comes from Somali pirates, who currently hold between 500 and 700 sailors captive, according to various estimates. “They like to keep about 13 freighters at a time, then when someone pays a ransom, they’re going to take another,” says Whelan.

Despite the presence of a combined multinational task force in the region, he sees a lack of urgency to tackle the problem. “If you had a situation elsewhere in the world where there were more than 500 hostages, there would be a huge effort to save them,” he said. Light report from the boarding and subsequent rescue of a British flagged vessel last week only seems to emphasize his point.

Fortunately, Whelan has yet to face the kidnappers directly. He attributes this to the high speeds that the Kithira’s 12-cylinder engines can achieve. “I heard a lot of hackers around us, but we weren’t directly attacked,” he says. “Sometimes they come in maybe three boats. You see the skiffs – they can be about 25 knots and they come and look at you, then probably leave. Or sometimes they hide.”

How does it feel to have to deal with that kind of unwelcome attention? “Uncomfortable is the best word, I think,” he said finally.

For now, the atmosphere is perfectly calm as we walk through the corridors of the ship, occasionally passing crew members busy on duty. The private cabins at the Whelan are well appointed, with sofas, desks and TVs. Several Christmas cards are on display, including a homemade one of her two children, Ryan, eight, and Alexandra, three. For Whelan, the Christmas holidays are spent at sea, which must sometimes complicate the task. “It’s hard, obviously, especially for the kids,” he admits.

Usually, he manages to reunite with his family in Uckfield, East Sussex, for Christmas every two years, by arrangement with the other captain of the Kithira. Each of them commands the ship six months a year, usually divided into 10-week chunks, but how they divide the time is up to them.

At sea, he works every day, sometimes up to 24 hours at a stretch if the circumstances require it, for example if the weather conditions are bad or if there is a particularly busy schedule in the port. “There are working time regulations, but the reality is there are times when I can’t just step back,” he says.

The advantage is that he spends the remaining six months of the year at home, an arrangement which gives him great freedom but which also depends entirely on the understanding of his family. Ever since he married his wife, Vicky, and had children relatively late in his life, it seems like a routine he’s still getting used to. “It’s extremely difficult to rehabilitate after working out every day for 10 weeks,” he says. “For the first week after I get home, I normally just want to sleep.”

Likewise, Whelan has had to readjust to life at sea since joining the Merchant Navy at the age of 15. While he seems perfectly attuned to the realities of modern sailing, as we rummage through the ship’s cabins, I can sense his nostalgia for a culture that is fading from year to year.

In the officers’ canteen, a portrait of the Queen hangs above a table covered with sandwiches wrapped in cling film. Normally a toast is given to the monarch at Christmas, but Whelan admits, guilty enough, that this year, for the first time, the tradition has not been kept. Maersk’s global recruitment policy means that with the exception of Whelan himself and the chief engineer, the ship’s 21 officers and crew are no longer from Britain but from India, Ukraine. , Burma and the Philippines. “It didn’t make much sense to gather everyone around anymore,” he said, a little sadly. “A lot of them don’t really speak English anyway.”

The common room used by Filipino reviews certainly looks well attended, with guitars, drums, and even a ping-pong table somehow squashed. But it contrasts sharply with the Officers’ Lounge, once a pre-dinner conversation center, now home only to a dusty bar (alcohol is no longer allowed on board) and withered yucca. “I try to flip it over and show it off, but the other captain usually keeps the curtains closed for the blackout,” Whelan says.

Other conventions that once brightened life at sea have also disappeared: the occasional transport of passengers, for example, and the extended shore leave that was enjoyed during the days when unloading and loading a ship’s cargo could take up to a week. So, is it no longer possible for a sailor to have a girl in every port? “No, no … that doesn’t happen anymore,” he sighs.

These days, cranes operate so efficiently that 11pm in port seems like a luxury – or at least a reasonable amount of time to deal with the quagmire of cargo records, messages, advance port papers, immigration forms, declarations. Maritime Health and other admin on its office. At Zeebrugge, his next stopover, he will only have seven and a half hours to get in and out.

“It used to be a way of life, but today it’s a career,” says Whelan. “The new marine terminals are built for deep water, miles from anywhere, making it difficult to get ashore, and security means some ports make that as difficult as possible, anyway. other ports, there is no shore leave. So you are practically a full length prisoner here. “He pauses.” They say the only difference between us and the prisoners in prison is that little prisoners drown. “

On deck we stroll along the freshly painted perimeter walkway and Whelan remembers how until recently he was doing laps to stay fit at sea. But there is work to be done before the imminent departure of the boat. Kithira for Zeebrugge, so we return to the reception of the ship. On the wall is another map of the Gulf of Aden filled with pirates, but this time someone has drawn a skull on top with a black marker. At least some maritime traditions never die.

Over time

In the evenings, people always say to Roy, “Where do you park your boat at night? Often they don’t understand that we are constantly on the move. “Roy hasn’t read a novel since 1976.” The Lord of the Rings was the last. I read a lot of technical volumes and newspapers, but no fiction. “In his youth, Roy was racing at Brands Hatch.” But it was a hobby that cost thousands of pounds. I can’t afford to do this now that I have my family. “Roy hasn’t been on vacation for about five years.” Last time was Australia. “

Curriculum vitae

To pay Whelan earns around £ 60,000 for six months of work per year. “And if I spend enough days out of the country, I can get the tax back. Most of us do.”

Hours For a typical 10 week period at sea, Whelan works every day of the week and is potentially available 24 hours a day, depending on the circumstances.

Work-life balance Great when Whelan is at home, but it’s not so good when he’s at sea, with one notable exception: “If the hours are right my wife and kids can come and join me on the ship for a few weeks. .

Best thing “The return trip. And have a wife who can handle everything while I’m gone, except controlling the central heating at low temperature. “

Worst thing “Pirates, and when the crew members get seriously ill on board. We have to treat them on a paramedic level until we reach port.”