The smell of naphtha fuel in the air, nostalgia clenched to the banister - the ship Grande Atlantico smokes under immense skies, which clear up and cloud over as she voyages from Buenos Aires to Hamburg, stops at Paranagua, Santos and Rio. Crossing the equator, she touches Dakar and claims northern Europe. Back and forth, on the Atlantic Ocean, a prisoner of endless comings and goings established by the market. Forget Melville, Conrad, Stevenson, they can help you get through some afternoons, dream of other worlds, but nowadays life at sea is di erent: less romantic, a lot of work and few words.