A Visit to the Port of Tema

We set off for the Port of Tema at 10:30 this morning and by the time we had reached the coast, Trey’s life had been shortened by at least 5 years due to the insanity of Kwabena’s, and the other reckless TroTro drivers insane pace of Accra style of driving. A quick stop at the beach and we proceeded to the gate of the port where naturally the security was tight. We were hassled a bit by two immigration officers requesting to see our passports but thankfully to Kwabena’s smooth tongue we were set free in a matter of minutes. I have to admit, both Trey and myself were a bit uneasy when the guard aggressively opened my door and asked what we were doing, while intently staring at my cell phone. We were later advised to keep our phones in our pockets when talking with Ghanaian officials. You don't have to tell me twice!

The Gold Coast

A Ghanaian flag and two Panamanian vessels.

This was my first visit to a major shipping port and needless to say I was very excited. Containers, containers, and more containers! I have never seen so many shipping containers in my entire life and the large Hanjin cargo boxes that pass through Missoula on the BNSF Railway finally make sense to me as I have now seen their final destination. I have also never witnessed such mindblowingly large shipping vessels. These things are like small floating cities on the water and hundreds of them line the coast awaiting their turn to unload. The amount of capital that transacts through here each 24 hours must be staggering!

Me, Kwabena, and Trey in front of the Nord Explorer. 

We had decided to visit the port to get an idea of how cargo is brought into the country in order to help us tie together the logistics of building an American style ranch in a foreign land. The Institute has connections with a port in Texas, and the idea of transporting live cattle, equipment, and materials has crossed our minds, so seeing the final destination made sense to us. The other plus of the day was witnessing first hand how the real business gets done in Ghana when dealing with Ghanaian officials. T.I.A. my friends.  

After a quick stop at the Hotel Marjorie to visit some of Kwabena's friends we headed to the Makola Market in the heart of the city. The Makola is Accra’s largest market selling and it deals in anything a man could wish for, illegal and legal alike. Crawling with millions of people, the sidewalks are invisible below the trinkets, tiles, and plastic imported shoes from China. People cross in front of our speeding truck like snowflakes in a blizzard and motorbikes clip the sideview mirrors as our truck narrowly misses falling a tire into the 2 foot deep, open air raw sewage and rain gutter. The smells are not for the faint of heart. I would estimate our trip through the Makola, to a cafe and bar on the coast at a short one or two miles, but the trip takes nearly 4 hours due to the close proximity of everything in sight.

Former officers quarters built by the British.

The name of the outdoor bar and cafe along the shores of the Atlantic has eluded my memory but the initial beauty has not. If this were California the value of the real estate would be enough to purchase one of the smaller African countries. You enter the seaside deck by going through a metal gate and downclimbing a long flight of concrete stairs, ending up on a breezy terraced patio that is constantly pounded by mighty waves being pushed ashore by coastal winds. A band played traditional African music and there were many couples dining and drinking on this warm Accra Saturday night. All beauty aside, I did notice that the ocean was littered with trash, so much so that the waves looked as if they were pushing ashore the debris of a tropical storm. This was very depressing and made me feel very fortunate to live in a country where the majority of the people deeply care for our world's natural resources.

Seaside bar and cafe – Accra, Ghana.

We only stayed at the bar for a short while, mainly because Kwabena wanted us to see the old slave barracks that line the shore that were built by the British empire during the days of the Gold Coast and the slave trade heyday. These were an eerie sight indeed.