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SECTION 3
MAIDEN VOYAGE
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Four weeks later I get an invitation through von Stierlitz for the "sea trials' on the newest delivery to SALONICA, the 29,300 ton LNG tanker „Salonica Olympics“. In the morning we leave the Intercontinental Hotel in Syngrou Avenue and go by taxi to Piraeus. We take a ferry to the other side of the harbour. There, on a mole on the far side of the port, is the berth of the Vessel, her body in dark blue with a thick white title Salonica. That spring day in April 1982 displays a radiant blue sky and the temperature is pleasant, about 19 degrees Celsius, with a light breeze from northwest. All over invited dignitaries populate the decks and manifest our interest; Representatives of ship construction yards in Asia, regional politicians, ship brokers, charterers, friends of the ship-owner, the insurance brokers and I, as representative of the „leading insurer“ in Hamburg.
I climb up and down the narrow steel stairways with gratings, which connect the levels of the whole ship. The designated captain and first mate conduct the tour. Four mighty hemispheres are standing there - the most impressive globular gas tanks on the upper deck - highly insulated tanks in which later liquid natural gas under refrigeration and pressure was to be transported. Although the energy pent up there exceeds the energy of several atom bombs, the engineers assures us that a powerful spontaneous explosion, as a consequence of sudden discharge of methane gas is not a realistic scenario, only a powerful carpet of flame would spread in a wide radius, all that was supposed to have been scientifically examined and even this scenario is unlikely, as the vessel is fitted out with all possible safety precautions that pushes the chances of such an event to happen into the realms of improbability. Accordingly the vessel has received a certificate 100 A1of Lloyd's Register.
I find these explanations extraordinarily comforting, and von Stierlitz agrees with me. Lloyd's insurers seem to have known that already, when they voluntarily took over the risk. We leave the harbour to the accompaniment of sounds of ships‘ sirens, and steer in southwesterly direction to the island Kythnos. There the ship turns in a wide arc and begins the trip home. Of course Katsourakis also has taken care of the social part of the program: in all of the ship‘s mess rooms and on the bridge deck, buffets have been set up, and staff is quick to fill up the rapidly emptied glasses: there is vodka for the gentlemen and champagne for the ladies. I notice a large number of noticeably pretty hostesses that are spreading themselves among the people in groups of two. One of the ship’s officer’s whispers to me:
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