URSABLOG: The End Of The Party

Coming into the office this morning was like coming on to the set of The Walking Dead: the bodies were there, but there wasn’t much life evident. Bags under the eyes, rough voices, women massaging their calves after wearing heels too often, trying to find ways of readjusting to life without the certainty of free food and drink every day. I am exhausted too, but I think the organisers of Posidonia, and the Greek shipping industry as a whole, should be proud of themselves. It was for me at least the best Posidonia for many years. I think that this is mostly because, apart from huge numbers of visitors, the sense of crisis, both in shipping and in Greece is fading and the organisers of the big parties can be more lavish without offending the austerity battered host nation. Indeed, the owners of taxis, catering companies, hotels and nightclubs must be very happy; the boost to the economy will be welcome too.

Indeed I had my one, by now traditional, row with a taxi driver who tried to rip me off on my way back from Island (a nightclub by the sea to the south of Athens) thinking I was just another innocent foreigner who has so much money he doesn’t care. When he heard a few choice questions in Greek about the tariff, and asking for a receipt, we came to a swift agreement on a reduced amount. Apart from that one incident the whole marathon went smoothly enough for me.

There are a few insidious trends developing in some functions however which unfortunately let Greece down. Greek hospitality is legendary, but it is dependent on an “open to all” approach. At many functions there are now ‘A list’ red rope areas, or VIP restricted zones, where the bankers and the top clients have special food and drink, and the rest of us foot soldiers and servants are left to hang around the bar drinking ourselves stupid to create the necessary buzz. The organisers of these parties should remember that the gods did not look on offences against hospitality kindly, in fact Zeus himself was the guardian of xenia, and enforced the duty of all of us to protect and feed travellers. Perhaps the most famous example of this is the Polyphemus, the cyclops in the Odyssey: his violation of the rules of hospitality was rewarded with blindness.

At the end of the Odyssey, there is also a passage that eloquently shows the consequences of those who abuse the hospitality of their hosts. The suitors of Penelopi eat their hosts out of house and home, insulting them and other guests, which happen to include the goddess Athena, and Odysseus himself, who exact a bloody revenge. The guest must be courteous and not be a burden to the host. Our duty of respect to our hosts is specifically not to take advantage of what is offered through drunkenness, gluttony or misbehaviour. Sadly I saw more than a few occasions where arrogant and ignorant behaviour on behalf of guests left a bad taste in my mouth. I am not, of course, asking for the gods to punish the perpetrators of such crimes, but a lack of an invitation or guests in the future may give pause for thought.

The buzzwords of this Posidonia have of course been sulphur, cap and 2020 in various combinations. I am thoroughly sick and tired of discussing it; I know it is extremely important, but predicting the outcome for the market is a mugs game. Considering there are so many different factors to consider, it is no surprise to me that there is no rush to install scrubbers in the fleet. Don’t criticise owners for their complacency, step into their shoes for a minute and consider their point of view: if the outcome is unclear, this is not a measurable risk but a speculation with no obvious reward. The solution to me is fairly simple: the market will decide, and as we know the market can be irrationally, and impersonally, brutal. In the meantime perhaps the best that owners can do is to wait and see; to me that is utterly sensible from an investment point of view.

I have also sat through enough presentations predicting the bright new future of technology, with analysts gleefully predicting the end of seafarers and brokers. I don’t get why they think that crew and my brother and sister brokers are such a burden on the industry. I cannot speak for those at sea, but I don’t know of any of brokers sitting around waiting for golden eggs to drop from the goose in the corner, eating grapes dropped into our mouths by our lackeys. We work hard and are good for the money. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t exist.

Which brings me to my final point. For anyone, like me, attending their last party hosted by the Marshall Islands Registry at Ble last night, they could not get away from the fact that shipping is a uniquely people based industry. It is not the big conferences or presentations that create and disperse innovations, or where the deals are done that shape our future. It is the conversations and interactions between unlikely groups of people that ensure that this ultimately efficient and competitive industry not only survives, but grows. We are not dinosaurs, we are homo sapiens, and after all the food and drink, the dancing, the flirting and talking have been done, we will see the results in the years to come, professionally and personally.

Ancient Greece, in particular Classical Greece, was a uniquely innovative time, and set in motion the western world as we know it. It was based on strict rules of hospitality and honour, but also recognised the randomness of life, and the futility of our existence. Hubris was followed by nemesis. Poseidon himself, the patron god of Posidonia if you like, was as capricious and unpredictable as any of the gods, rewarding and punishing those as he saw fit. In the meantime, us mere mortals had to make the best of it, celebrating good fortune when we could and relying on our resources when bad times came, and relying on others when those resources ran out. Nothing much has changed really since then. We try and make sense of our world, and think ourselves wise when we try to predict what is to come, but the shipping gods, and the markets, laugh at us when we share our plans.

So what makes our lives bearable and gives us the will to survive and move forward? Other people. We are a service industry, and as the last week has already shown, we are proud to serve. All the rest is packaging and noise. So as we look for ways to reinject life into our tired bodies, let’s reflect on this happy thought – and after the last two weeks it is surely evident – that shipping is indeed all about relationships.

Simon Ward

www.ursashipbrokers.com