Beneath the surface 21

Panama Canal 15th November.

At six in the morning it became apparent that the day was going to be brutal. We began at six and were likely to finish at ten thirty. Hardly an incentive for a happy dance. Marrissa and I gathered our cameras and made our way up on deck. At six fifteen it was already humid. When we arrived Robert was already up on deck wearing his white polo neck, blue shorts and Australian hat. His glasses had steamed up and his stomach flopped over his belt. It was apparent he was knackered but struggled to appear enthusiastic. The Panama canal was always a complete drudge for photographers. What was worse was Robert had to motivate a team who sensed they were not going to make money that cruise.
‘Good morning!’ he said in a strong Australian accent. ‘Well today is the perfect day for us to make money. What you both have to do is get as many shots of the guests with the Panama canal in the background as you can. You will keep circulating the decks and shooting the guests on every lock and against every interesting background. Now you don’t give them a choice. I don’t want to hear you ask can I take your picture - it is get together right there now,’ he said waving his arms and ushering us together. Click. ‘See how easy it is?’
It was particularly easy to give instructions when you weren’t taking the pictures. What I found strange was that usually on the Panama canal the photographers left the ship, chartered a car and drove to each of the locks. While on the locks we always photographed the ship and the passengers passing through. The Captain would announce, ‘if you look at the locks you will see the ship’s photographers, smile and wave.’ I used my four hundred lens to capture them smiling and waving. The fact that I had left the ship and was on the Panama canal always became a talking point.
‘So how did you get off the ship when we didn’t dock?’ they would ask.
Actually I was once left behind in the Panama canal. When I saw the ship sailing into the distance I had to charter a speedboat to catch up. The pilot boat that usually took me back did not turn up, what’s more the Captain had forgotten me. When the Captain noticed me waving at them to slow down so I could join the ship, the Captain kindly announced I was about to risk my life jumping from a speedboat onto a ship. Of course that drew some passenger attention - they thought it was all part of the entertainment. So there I was waves splashing in my face, a back pack of camera equipment and a leap to make onto a knotted rope. I took a deep breath, launched myself and climbed the knots. I don’t remember the climb but I do remember my heart thudding in my chest. I made it. That cruise I was considered a celebrity.
‘You’re very brave,’ they would say.
‘How very James Bond,’ said another.
‘You do that kind of thing all the time?’ said others.
‘Does the lift go up as well as down?’ Incidentally that was just a general comment which happened to be on the same day. I thought I would include it.

While I coated my face in suntan lotion Robert went and cordoned off an area on the top deck at the front of the ship. It was the best location to photograph the guests the front of the ship and the locks. It was an idea that I had not seen on any of the other ships I had worked on. When we arrived at the first lock he would round up the guests and photograph from the best vantage point.
‘What is the plan for today by the way?’ I asked Robert before he absconded.
‘We will finish shooting around five, get changed into evening uniform and have something to eat. We will then return to the gallery for six,’ he said.
‘What time does the gallery close tonight?’ I asked.
‘Ten thirty,’ he replied.
I glanced at Marrissa, she glanced back. The look on our faces revealed our thoughts.
‘Right then you two go and get on with it,’ he said brightly. ‘I want at least one hundred pictures from each of you.
I pointed at my lens, it was steamed up. The contrast between the ship air conditioning and the humidity often caused a steamy lens. The thing was you couldn’t simply wipe it with a lens cloth because the steam would instantly return. All we could do was wait for the lenses to clear and that could take any amount of time.
Once the lenses were clear the photographic factory began. Unsuspecting guests gazed out at the lush greenery and Marrissa and I would tap them on the shoulder.
‘Get together and smile!’ Click.
Marrissa and I hot dogged about the deck.
‘Hello, very nice!’ click.
I found Marrissa intriguing, as did the guests. It seemed her lack of English was in actual fact working in her favour. She was actually brilliant with guests and without having a strong English understanding she could use the fact that she actually did not understand the concept of no. I passed by at one point and had to contain a smirk.
‘No we don’t need a picture thank you,’ said one couple politely.
‘Yeyssss, nice sunshine,’ she said with a huge grin.
‘It’s okay…’ they said.
‘Ohhhh okay, very nice, smile!’ Click.
After two laps of the deck my facial muscles ached from my fake smile. Marrissa glanced at me, frowned and rubbed her jaw. ‘Pain,’ she said.
I nodded.
I applied more factor fifty sun tan lotion and Marrissa pointed, ‘like mayonaise,’ she said.
She glanced up at the heavens and pointed, ‘rain,’ she said.
She began to dance - a hippy bottom dance.
‘Marrissa?’
‘Rain dance! No photo,’ she said with a big smile.
She was correct, the first giant tropical rain drops fell. We protected our cameras and glanced at each other. We were both wearing white t-shirts and if we did not get to shelter is would be a wet t-shirt contest photo-shoot. We dashed inside and went down to the lab where Robert was printing pictures. He made a loud sigh when he saw us.
‘It’s raining, we just thought we would come down. Can we get a drink?’ I asked.
He nodded, all was not well.
‘Robert is something going on?’
He studied me, his eyes revealed upset but he shook his head. I wondered whether he was going to cry.
‘You have no idea of the pressure that I’m under Felicity. They want us to make money but what do we do? These people come on the ship year after year. They have had all the photos they need. What more can I do? Look at the diversity of our work and the quality. Still they don’t buy,’ he said raking his fingers through his hair.
In that moment something made sense about Robert, he was under extreme pressure, he was responsible for how much money the photo concession made. He was running against a wall and expected to produce a miracle. As much as he was frustrated he was doing his best in the face of adversity. ‘When things get really bad I play this.’
Were things really bad?
After sipping a diet coke Marrissa and I noticed the rain was calming. We studied each other too long, she was considering not mentioning the sun was coming out so we could relax.
‘Marrissa and Felicity,’ said Robert calling us into the darkroom. ‘This will motivate you,’ he said pressing the play button on his MP3.
The cheesiest song about Sunshine filled the darkroom walls and Robert waved his hands to accompany the music. I glanced at Marrissa whose smile evolved into a grimace.
‘It is my motivation song,’ he said.
‘Very… Nice,’ said Marrissa robotically.
‘Right get back out there and I will be up to photograph the sectioned off area. Felicity I would like your help. See me at the front of the ship in twenty minutes.’
‘Erm Robert where is Jose?’ I asked.
Robert studied me, I had definitely asked the wrong question.
‘Felicity… I will be honest with you. Jose is on the edge, he has been extended and unless I give him some space he’s going to flip out. He has done it a couple of times before and just completely lost it. We need to get him through the next two months without him loosing it. He works well with the printing and on formal, but photographing the decks makes him very angry,’ he said with a sigh.
I frowned, so to get out of photographing something I had to appear very angry? I could do that, actually no I couldn’t.
Back up on deck Marrissa and I did another round of photographs until I joined Robert at the front of the ship.
‘Drag people over for the perfect shot,’ he said, standing on a pedistall so he could provide the correct angle.
I felt like a market stall holder. Get your ripe apples! Lovely ripe apples… Pound a pound. Get them ‘ere!
‘Sir/Madam - the perfect location for a photograph is over there with Robert,’ I said as if they should know him. Some of the couples I approached I had already photographed three times. Shall I feign Sporadic Amnesia?
I soon realised that what I was saying had to be shorter, ‘if you would just like to step over there,’ I said. Robert could do the rest.
It was amazing how when you told people what to do they often did it. It was all about having an authoritive voice.
After a couple of hours of rounding people up it was lunch time. Robert was beaming. ‘Look, such a beautiful shot. Beauty - full! They have to buy it. Look Felicity look at what a Beut these are,’ he said showing me the back screen of the camera.
I wouldn’t say they were beautiful but they were pretty good. It turned out the rounding up had resulted in two hundred pictures taken of couples. That meant around fifty percent of the passengers had been photographed, if we had not photographed the same couples twice. That figure teamed with Marrissa and my deck shots was a lot of guests photographed.
After a half hour lunch of food that was unrecognisable we returned to the lab. Jose was sitting printing with a prickly atmosphere. Marrissa and I picked up the piles of pictures and displayed them in the gallery. They were ready for the guests to buy. God I hoped they would buy, we were paid purely commission, so no sales meant no wage! Imagine.
After our success on decks, if I was manager I would at least have said well done. Nothing.
The pictures were set up in the gallery and… Nothing. No guests. Robert glanced out of the window. ‘We’re coming to the next lock. Do another lap of the decks - there might be some people you missed,’ he said handing us each a camera.
I was not allowed to question, but Marrissa glanced at me with a frown.
I sensed that our constant pestering was likely to piss the passengers off. What’s more we still had another week of them. After a lap of the decks Marrissa and I stopped off at the ice-cream bar. No-one was around so one of the waiters slipped us a cookies and cream cornet each. We ate our luxury nibble in a secluded area where no-one would see us.
‘Nice no?’ said Marrissa.
‘Very nice,’ I said.
‘Make fat,’ she said slapping her thigh.
‘A minute on the lips a life time on the… erm Ships,’ I said realising I was about to allude to the bottom.
‘Yeysss,’ she said tucking in.
She smiled.
‘I no understand why we photograph more,’ she said.
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know Marrissa.’
‘What happening with Jose, why he no photograph?’ she asked.
‘He is angry,’ I replied.
Marrissa did not respond, instead she seemed to be working out what was really going on. She was astute, she might not have perfect English and I did not have perfect or any Spanish, but I sensed she was very aware.
‘There big problem here,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘No one happy. That bad,’ she said.
I tended to agree with that.


When we returned to the gallery Robert stood with a report in hands smiling.
‘We have already sold more pictures this cruise than the whole of last cruise,’ he said.
What?
Had they only sold two photos last cruise? Something was not adding up. What was going on?
Marrissa glanced at me and yawned.
Robert shook his head, ‘you can do that in six months,’ he said.
‘When we have time off boss?’ she asked.
He shook his head, ‘there is no real time off. You are here to work,’ he said.
The expression of an angry child graced her face, ‘no time off? I no slave! I no in prison. I do no bad! We have time off or we no work!’
Respect.
That was the hidden Marrissa I had noticed the first day I met her. I knew there was something volatile that would rear its head if she did not have her way. I sensed as time wore on there would be fireworks. I realised in that moment she was struggling too. We were both on a treadmill but Marrissa was on the same ship for six months. That had to be worse didn’t it?