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Yes, Saturday night, and what could be better than sitting in my cabin bored out of my mind; the football season having just begun back home, a million and one things i would rather be doing. And yet, here we are; grown men, making paper planes in the lab and having a competition as to see whose could go the furthest. Answer, me. I did moot the idea of stealing the chase boat and looking for a port as the Island of Jamdina is in sight. And we could stay there in the bar until the good ship Hope came looking for us, but I wasn't really serious about it. All in all, I sat in the lab for 6 hours today, I finished Slaughterhouse 5, and to be honest, i warmed to it, and now I want to read Timequake, as it sounds really good. An odd book, but with a hugely important point about the futility of war, and the human cost. Certainly made me think, and that was the point. I now have two books to choose from: one a book by a Times columnist, and the other a John Grisham thing about High School football. I think the girlie book might win out.

Went to the gym again today. Well, when i say the gym, I mean the collection of scrap metal down under the laundry that we call the gym. The machines work, kinda, and so we get a workout. Some decent machines would be nice, but that would be asking too much. I mean they have £600 left from the safety fund three months ago, and are in line for at least a grand in the next month, as we have had no accidents, yet. Oh well, another 500 dodgy Indonesian DVDS could always come in handy, I mean you can never have enough silver coasters, can you?

I can now say, that I will, or should, be home in Two weeks; why the capital letter, Ian; I have no idea. Maybe it's because its important. At least to me, Jools and the cats; although they might be unaware that I am coming back, or have left. Anyway, I can't wait to see those three cats either. I will be flying back with Quantas, which begs the question of in flight catering; throw another shrimp on the barbie? Can that be safe at 30,000 feet? And to drink sir, Fosters or Tooheys? I wouldn't give four Xs for a beer, but a decent red wine, Sheila, now that's another thing. And then there is the arrival in London at Oh my God, how early o'clock? Yes, 05:25; although, looking at a website, i see that flight is on average 90 minutes late. As long as I get there, that's all I care about.

About the workouts; it seems that unknown to me, I have been losing weight and inches. I tried on a t shirt that was quite tight last month, only for it to hang like a nightshirt; and the loose t shirts I also had last month are now like mini dresses. How did that happen, and why did I not notice? I can tell you, that with meals like tonight’s dinner, i may lose more. Well, it sounds great, but if you're not in the mood for fish, then it sucks. Fish soup followed by sweet and sour fish. Hmmmmm. The chef cooked me an omelette, a small one, and I think toast may be in order for supper; well, i do let him use the computer in my cabin, so that’s fair.

About my job: well, those who know me, or have been reading my words will know that in three days my voyage on the MV L’Espoir will be at an end. And after a night in a hotel in Kupang, the long journey back to the garden of England begins. The question I have been asked is, how do I do this? Nine weeks away at a time. I can’t pretend it’s easy, at times I, certainly on this trip, I wish I could just pick up my bags and walk off. But, I can’t. And I have had to ride out whatever ticked me off. This trip has seen me have a major promotion, and has been nerve-wracking for me, especially in the first few days when I was very new and finding out exactly what I was supposed to be doing here. As the days went on, and I got into a routine, it made sense, and for the most part, it has been enjoyable. Heck, we even find time in the day for a poker school; and I have learned to bluff. I won’t say this is the hardest job I have ever done, but I think I have done my time in stinkers to catch a break now: 5 years in a chicken factory for one.

But, what makes someone take a job that means they are away from home for over 7 months a year? Well, in a word; money. I lost my last job last November, and had nothing; no money, no nothing. This came along, and I had to take it. It meant finding a home for my cat, molly: and let me tell you, taking her away in her kitty box was the hardest thing I have done. I cried bucket fulls of man-tears that day. In the end, my g/f was going to look after Molly, and in the end it worked out brilliant. Molly is now a one cat rodent killing machine, and frog licker, and I have moved in as well. If I work 7 months, then I have 5 months off; I get all my weekends back, which means that when I go back home, I will have something like 7 weeks off, as I only took 3 weeks at the end of the last trip. And they owe me. But, now when I go home, we have quality time, and the money I saved u when away means we can go on trips, or even a short break. I won’t pretend it’s hard on the morning when I have to leave to join a boat, be it in the North Sea or here in Indonesia, but again, at the end of the trip, the feeling is just wonderful: Its like Christmas and birthday all in one.

So, from I have gone from a one cat single man without work in November to employed, engaged three-kitty man now; and am blissfully happy.

We are lucky out here on the ocean: we have the internet (most of the time), we have e mail, we have sea views (all round), see whales sometimes, tropical ports, new cuisine, interesting people, the chance for plenty of duty free and as I have said, plenty of time off. Keeping friends and relationships is difficult, I won’t lie, and it’s no good watching TV no more as you don’t get to see episodes for months. But my reading skills have improved, and I have read more widely. I get to listen to lots of music, and have no daily commute to get to work. No cooking to do, no washing up either.

Saying that, I really yearn for a ‘normal’ job, but getting one in England that pays the bills is very difficult; so I might be doing this for some time yet. Thanks to everyone I have met on matchdoctor these past six weeks or so, and especially to those I have made friend with; you know who you are, I love every one of you. I will be around for the next couple of days, and then the long journey home on Friday via Jakarta, Singapore and then to London. I wish it were more glamorous than it sounds; international airports are much the same the world over, selling the same things: a Prada handbag, Bally shoes, Nike sneakers and all the other multi national shops. Believe me, I just want to be home, doing normal things; even going to Tescos, listening to the radio or walking to the corner shop for a copy of the Times.

Do I sound as though I’m moaning? I know how lucky I am; maybe I’ll feel better about it next week when I am back home.

Yes, Good morning. It is already Wednesday here in the Banda Sea off the coast of Timor. I have just been up on deck to watch the sunrise. The first time I have done that this trip; and rather wonderful it was too. There's a cloudless morning, and the sky was a myriad of pinks and blues, until just above the sun, the pinks darkened to reds and then, the colour of dark blood, the sun rose. Something magical about watching the sun rise, getting brighter every moment. Soon, to bright to look at, but the start of a new day; full of endless possibilities. Sunrise and sunset on the equator are nothing if not special.

This is my last full day at sea, and one which will be quite busy. I have a mountain of paperwork to do, make sure everything is ready to send data back to the office. But the really good stuff is thinking about packing, and making sure I don't leave things behind.

I will be off line for about 5 days, what with the day in port tomorrow, and then the 36 hour journey back. And it past experience has taught me, a few days flat out with jet lag. Part of the job, I guess.

One last thing; two guys I used to work with in my RAF days were injured in Basra last week. The compound came under mortar attack, and one lost an arm, and the other lost a leg. Like most of us, i have friends and loved ones that are going over there to do their part; and whilst not going into the reasons why they are there now; I am sure you'd join with me in wishing every single one of them comes home safe.

It seems that for most of the past month, my thoughts have been of little else other than when i get off the ship. Counting the weeks, then days and then hours. Now, it really is just a handful of hours, I am really sad. Sad because of the friends I am going to leave behind; those that I work with, and the Indonesian crew who, much to our shame, do up to 12 months at a time on such ships as ours; and smile all the time; don't bitch about the hours or being away from home. And on top of that are on a small amount compared to us. They get $900 a month, less tax and fees to the agency. And yet they are always so happy, unlike us westerners. They miss their children growing up, while they save enough money to buy a taxi or a small business back home, or for their family to have the things they need. We can go home every month if we want, they have no such luxuries.

The day has passed by so quickly, the jobs have been done, and now it is just a case of waiting for the work to finish before tying up the loose ends. And then it's all over. Just like that. We watched the sun set this evening, another wonderful event. The sea has calmed, the wind dropped, and it felt like the end of a cruise. On the horizon, we saw land, the first we have seen in about 10 days.

Already it is the end of August; in the last seven months I have spent over 5 months out here, working. Days have no meaning; we work 24/7, I think it's Wednesday, but in reality it could be anything. Tomorrow we have the novelty of being back on land; visit some shops for souvenirs and spices. And look at the crowds, marvel at the hustle and bustle of the town, and take in the smells.

Early Friday morning we fly out of here, onwards to catch our international flights, and back to the world that we know. For the past four months, for the most part, this ship, just 80 metres long, has been my world. I hope to write about the adjustments I make.

Have a great rest of the week, and a fantastic weekend. Sunshine in the UK, apparently, for a bank holiday; whatever next?

I am new to this sailing lark, but there is something special about arriving into port after a while at sea. My friend, Waldus, says that after over 50 years at sea, it’s a feeling he never gets tired of. Once all work has been done, we all go to the upper deck to look at the town hove into view, and the sights and smells of life come into focus.

Then all the essential jobs have to be done; refuelling, supplies, and most importantly, our replacements. That is great as they come bleary eyed up the steps, wide eyed at something new. On occasion, old friendships are renewed, greeting exchanged and move out our baggage from our rooms, and they put theirs in. We quickly pass what we thing is important information, and then wait to be allowed off, and get back to what we call life, and think about a relaxing day, a shower in a room built on solid ground; no need to have one hand on a railing.

It is odd, one moment we are on the ship, something so familiar, our home for the last eight weeks, and then the word comes, out to the transport, and we are away; the L’Espoir growing smaller as we head up the hill on the winding road, and back to the rest of the world.

The car is surrounded by people, couples, families on motor bikes and scooters as we head into the town. We climb out, and into the air condition space of the lobby, check in and a bell hop takes our battered luggage containing our sweaty work ware up to palatial room with starched white linen.

I headed back out into the town to meet up with the guys I had been working with at the beach bar. I stood on the road and flagged down one of the taxi vans; once again sat on several bass speakers as more Bob Marley boomed out. The driver looking round at me every few seconds and giving me the thumbs up sign. Heck, I was happy, so I did the same back. At Teddy’s, the guys had been drinking since 11 that morning; now it was late afternoon, and they were making little sense, except to themselves. Apparently, alternate rounds of pint and a half beers and then pints of rum and coke make that happen: especially when coupled with the blazing sun. I had two beers, and could feel my head spinning; so I made the decision to stop and head back to the hotel. I was to be up at four the next morning for the first flight to Jakarta. Queue more odd looks as I flagged down a series of taxis until I found one willing to go past the hotel Sylvia.

The trip back, via Jakarta and Singapore was pretty uneventful. Flights are the same all over the world. Well, being Indonesia, the planes are not good, nor is their safety record; so a good landing is almost treated to a cheer and round of applause. Getting through customs require several taxes and ‘lubrication’ to be paid, until the final stamp in the passport is made, and then we are allowed to get on the flight to Singapore.

Whilst flying along Java, we saw dozens of volcanoes, rising through the low clouds. I can tell you, that it is a sight I will not forget. Nor is the one of a volcano ejecting huge clouds of ash and smoke as we descended into Surabaya; through the low clouds, coloured yellow by the gasses from the cone above. I thought it a bit odd landing at the foot of an active and obviously belching volcano, but no one else seemed to think it odd. It was with some relief when we too off into the blue once again.

13 hours on a plane is never good; I can never sleep when flying, no matter how many whiskeys I think will knock me out. Modern travel means that there is video on demand, and I watch shows on the search for the north west passage and the space race. The hours pass; until we are over Europe, time for breakfast, and then into London.

We land at just gone five, breeze through customs and there waiting is Jools. We make our way through the Home Counties along an empty M25 and onto the rising sun, looking glorious in the early morning mist.

Thankfully, it has been easy to get back into the swing of life back in Blighty. We still drive in the left, there are still no Tigers here, and the law of gravity has not been revoked. So, I have gone through the usual food frenzy; we had a fry up on the way back from the airport; we christened the new bbq, twice, and last night Jools took me out to celebrate my birthday. A nice little Italian place and they serve Crème Brulee, which in truth is why we wanted to go.

On a spur of a moment thing, we went up to London for the day yesterday. I saw that the trains were running, and we were on the next one up to Victoria. London was chaos due to the police operation for the Notting Hill Carnival, and the queues for the tube were huge. We grabbed a taxi and headed out to Tower Hill for some photographs. It was a glorious day, and I know a couple of the shots of Tower Bridge are pretty good. Anyway, as usual the crowds were big, and we walked to get on the DLR to head out to Greenwich.

We stopped off at Canary Warf for some more pictures, and in a mall discovered a Chilis; we went in for sizzling fajitas and margaritas. And although it’s a chain, it was good; although triple the price it would have been in the US. Greenwich was also crowded, but walking up to the observatory, families were on the grass, enjoying the late summer sunshine and playing games. It was packed up there, but in a good way in that people finding time and science interesting. There is always time to look at Harrison’s clocks, and relive his story.

Jetlag is still killing me; although I slept almost normal hours last night. But that did not stop me having another two and a half hours this afternoon. At least that gives the cheesecake I have baked time to cool. We are having another bbq tonight, as the weather is holding up, and it is great to sit on the patio with the cats and watching the trains go by.

It is great to be back; more than words can say. But, I have accepted that I am back, and the time went really quite fast, and now I can look forward to a few weeks off, and catching up on music, news and the football of course.