February 1977 Rotterdam, Holland, I’m 29. I’m sitting close to Peter, my husband of three weeks, on the deck of a tugboat crossing the harbour to join our ship. It’s the start of his next four month assignment as Chief Officer, and I’m to travel with him for six weeks. It’s cold and grey, and we rise and fall with…
SIX WEEKS AT SEA IN THE SEVENTIES, PART ONE.
