E m m a   M a e r s k

The Emma Maersk, part of a Danish shipping line

chartered to Wal Mart, is shown in this photos essay.

What a ship….no wonder ‘Made in China ‘ is displacing North American made goods big time.

This monster transports goods across the Pacific in just 5 days!! This is one of three ships

presently in service, with another two ships commissioned to be completed in 2012.

What a ship….no wonder ‘Made in China ‘ is displacing North American made goods big time.
This monster transports goods across the Pacific in just 5 days!! This is one of three ships

presently in service, with another two ships

commissioned to be completed in 2012.

These ships were commissioned by

Wal-Mart to get all their goods

and stuff from China .

They hold

an incredible 15,000

 

cartons and have a 207 foot deck beam!!

The full crew is just 13 people on a ship

longer than a US Aircraft Carrier

(which has a crew of 5,000)

With it’s 207′ beam it is too big to fit

through the Panama or Suez Canals ..

It is strictly transpacific. Cruise speed: 31 knots.

The goods arrive 4 days before the

typical container ship (18-20 knots) on

a China -to- California  run. 91% of

Walmart products are made in China .

So this behemoth is hugely competitive

even when carrying perishable goods.

The ship was built in five sections.

The sections floated together and then welded.

The command bridge is higher than a

10-story building and has 11 cargo crane rigs

that can operate simultaneously unloading

the entire ship in less than two hours.

Additional info: 

Country of origin  Denmark

Length – 1,302 ft

Width – 207 ft

Net cargo – 123,200 tons

Engine – 14 cylinders in-line diesel engine (110,000 BHP)

Cruise Speed – 31 knots

Cargo capacity – 15,000 TEU (1 TEU = 20 cubic feet)

Crew – 13 people !

First Trip – Sept. 08, 2006

Construction cost – US $145,000,000+

Silicone painting applied to the ship bottom reduces water

resistance and saves 317,000 gallons of diesel per year.

Editorial Comment!

A recent documentary in late March,

2010 on the History Channel noted that

all of these containers are shipped

back to China , EMPTY. Yep, that’s right.

We send nothing back on these ships.

What does that tell you about

the current financial state of this country?

Just keep buying those imported

goods (mostly gadgets) until

you run out of money.

Then you may wonder what the cause of unemployment (maybe even your job)
in the U.S. and Canada  might be????

This message, if any,

surely deserves forwarding, doesn’t it ?

Doormats With A Difference

While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, ‘The tooth fairy will never believe this!’

Two young businessmen in Florida were sitting down for a break in their soon-to-be new store in the shopping mall.  As yet, the store wasn’t ready, with only a few shelves and display racks set up. One said to the other, “I’ll bet that any minute now some senior is going to walk by, put his face to the window, and ask what we’re selling.” Sure enough, just a moment later, a curious senior gentleman walked up to the window, looked around intensely and rapped on the glass, then in a loud voice asked, “What are you sellin’ here?” One of the men replied sarcastically, “We’re selling ass-holes.” Without skipping a beat, the old timer said, “You’re doing well, only two left.”

When  an old man died in the geriatric ward of a  nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was  believed that he had nothing left of any  value.

Later, when the nurses were going  through his meager possessions, they found this  poem. Its quality and content so impressed the  staff that copies were made and distributed to  every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her  copy to Missouri .

The  old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since  appeared in the Christmas edition of the News  Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental  Health. A slide presentation has also been made  based on his simple, but eloquent,  poem.

And this little old man, with  nothing left to give to the world, is now the  author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across  the Internet.

Crabby  Old Man

What  do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you  see?

What are you thinking . . . . . when  you’re looking at me?

A crabby old man . . .  . . not very wise,

Uncertain of habit . . . .  . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his  food . . . . . and makes no reply.

When you  say in a loud voice . . . . . ‘I do wish you’d  try!’

Who seems not to notice . . . . . the  things that you do.

And forever is losing . .  . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or  not . . . . . lets you do as you will,

With  bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to  fill?

Is that what you’re thinking? . . . . .  Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes,  nurse . . . . . you’re not looking at  me.

I’ll tell you who I am. . . . . . As  I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding,  . . . . . as I eat at your will.

I’m a small  child of Ten . . . . . with a father and  mother,

Brothers and sisters . . . . . who  love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen  . . . . with wings on his feet.

Dreaming that  soon now . . . . . a lover he’ll meet.

A  groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a  leap.

Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I  promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . .  . . . I have young of my own.

Who need me to  guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.

A  man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown  fast,

Bound to each other . . . . . With ties  that should last.

At Forty, my young sons  . . . . . have grown and are gone,

But my  woman’s beside me . . . . . to see I don’t  mourn.

At Fifty, once more, babies play  ’round my knee,

Again, we know children . . .  . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are  upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.

I look  at the future . . . . . shudder with  dread.

For my young are all rearing . . . . .  young of their own.

And I think of the years  . . . . . and the love that I’ve  known.

I’m now an old man . . . . . and  nature is cruel.

Tis jest to make old age . .  . . . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles  . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.

There is  now a stone . . . . where I once had a  heart.

But inside this old carcass . . .  . . a young guy still dwells,

And now and  again . . . . . my battered heart swells.

I  remember the joys . . . . . I remember the  pain.

And I’m loving and living . . . . .  life over again.

I think of the years,  all too few . . . . . gone too fast.

And  accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can  last.

So open your eyes, people . . . . .  open and see.

Not a crabby old man . . . Look  closer . . . see ME!!

Remember  this poem when you next meet  an  older person who you might brush  aside  without  looking at the young soul within.

We  will all, one day, be there, too!

PLEASE  SHARE THIS POEM

The best and  most beautiful things of  this  world can’t be seen or touched.

The  old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since  appeared in the Christmas edition of the News  Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental  Health. A slide presentation has also been made  based on his simple, but eloquent,  poem.

And this little old man, with  nothing left to give to the world, is now the  author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across  the Internet.

Crabby  Old Man

What  do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you  see?

What are you thinking . . . . . when  you’re looking at me?

A crabby old man . . .  . . not very wise,

Uncertain of habit . . . .  . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his  food . . . . . and makes no reply.

When you  say in a loud voice . . . . . ‘I do wish you’d  try!’

Who seems not to notice . . . . . the  things that you do.

And forever is losing . .  . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or  not . . . . . lets you do as you will,

With  bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to  fill?

Is that what you’re thinking? . . . . .  Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes,  nurse . . . . . you’re not looking at  me.

I’ll tell you who I am. . . . . . As  I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding,  . . . . . as I eat at your will.

I’m a small  child of Ten . . . . . with a father and  mother,

Brothers and sisters . . . . . who  love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen  . . . . with wings on his feet.

Dreaming that  soon now . . . . . a lover he’ll meet.

A  groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a  leap.

Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I  promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . .  . . . I have young of my own.

Who need me to  guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.

A  man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown  fast,

Bound to each other . . . . . With ties  that should last.

At Forty, my young sons  . . . . . have grown and are gone,

But my  woman’s beside me . . . . . to see I don’t  mourn.

At Fifty, once more, babies play  ’round my knee,

Again, we know children . . .  . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are  upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.

I look  at the future . . . . . shudder with  dread.

For my young are all rearing . . . . .  young of their own.

And I think of the years  . . . . . and the love that I’ve  known.

I’m now an old man . . . . . and  nature is cruel.

Tis jest to make old age . .  . . . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles  . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.

There is  now a stone . . . . where I once had a  heart.

But inside this old carcass . . .  . . a young guy still dwells,

And now and  again . . . . . my battered heart swells.

I  remember the joys . . . . . I remember the  pain.

And I’m loving and living . . . . .  life over again.

I think of the years,  all too few . . . . . gone too fast.

And  accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can  last.

So open your eyes, people . . . . .  open and see.

Not a crabby old man . . . Look  closer . . . see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.

We  will all, one day, be there, too!

PLEASE  SHARE THIS POEM

The best and  most beautiful things of  this  world can’t be seen or touched.

A man was telling his neighbor, “I just bought a new hearing aid. It cost me four thousand dollars, but it’s state of the art. It’s perfect.”

“Really,” answered the neighbor . “What kind is it?”

“Twelve thirty.”