Up The Gangway | I Made It

“Who would go to a ship right now? My answer is Emily Frazier.” One of my bosses said that in a meeting we had last week. He consistently refers to my tenacity. And I have been continuing to channel that energy into this adventure.

Over 24 hours after arriving to the Memphis Airport, I was in a taxi van conversing about Tenerife’s southern rocks and northern palm trees. The driver had informed it would be about a 40 minutes drive to the ship. My stomach didn’t flop, I wasn’t feeling anxious… I think I just was in awe that I had made it this far. I’ve been talking about this ship as a potential home since June of 2019. It all felt overwhelming that God knew it would be April 01, 2021 all along… Through the struggle of delays and doubts in 2020, I held onto a visual - heading up the gangway onto the Africa Mercy. And then as April 01 drew closer and closer, and what I would be doing on the ship/what life would be like on the ship continued to change and grow more blurry, I held onto that image. “The gangway- I’m going to go up the gangway.” A week or so before I was informed I wouldn’t be allowed off the ship because I was an American - “The gangway - I’m going to go up the gangway.” A part of the possibility for me to join the ship was committing to working in my position as a photographer 50% of the time and serve in another department 50% of the time. I am still unsure what that other job will be - “The Gangway - I’m going up the gangway.” March 31st, departure day, continued to grow closer and the paper work continued to be sent to me to print. I was doing math in my dreams, and would wake up in a sweat wondering if I had done the covid test when I was suppose to; would Spain take an English PCR test? Did it have to say PCR on it? Would the time be accepted if it was 72 hours before departure American time, or did I have to do it in Spainish time? Will they ask for it at departure or Arrival - or both? “The Gangway - I’m going to go up the gangway.” Even if I can’t see whats behind me or before me, I will make it.

And as the van turned out of a roundabout, I saw it. There she was, far out on a cement dock. MERCYSHIPS.ORG written in massive letters across her starboard side. It was the Africa Mercy. We started getting closer and closer. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was really REALLY real. We pulled right up to the gangway. The driver opened the door, and I hopped out with two of my bags in hand. He set my duffle next to me on the platform at the bottom of the gangway, and said “Okay, goodbye!” And drove away. I waved at the security guard at the top, and slowly made my way up the gangway. It was slightly anti-climactic because the stairs were a little closer together than anticipated, and I was hulling two of my bags awkwardly and I don’t know - going up a set of unfamiliar stairs while being watched isn’t ideal. haha BUT then I was there. At the top, headed into the reception. I was on the Africa Mercy. I had gone UP the gangway.

I was greeted with all smiles and questions about my travels. After some paperwork, good information, and my ID made, I was taken to a quarantine cabin on Deck 6. A lovely crewmember sat down with me and walked me through everything I needed to know for my first week aboard while in quarantine. I had been told that there was a fire drill that day - and I was to not leave my cabin, though normally EVERYone is required to react to drills as if they were not drills. Halfway through our discussion, the alarm did go off and my new friend quickly told me “I will be back” and dashed out of the room. I had my dinner, and a couple of hours later she returned, post drill and debrief. We finished going through all the papers and she prayed over me before saying goodbye for now.

Then I was there. I was on the ship. Up the gangway. I was home.