Ferryman Toughest Place to be a...

Three British workers, a ferryman,

a miner,

and an emergency nurse.

They've all accepted the challenge to do their job

under the most stressful and dangerous conditions on the planet.

They must be a really hard, hard people here

to be able to cope with this.

At home, we'd shut the department, you know.

People wouldn't come back to work.

This is gun-down mining, this is.

It's really dangerous.

Really dangerous.

Colin Window is swapping a thousand-ton car ferry in London

for a wooden sampan in Dhaka, Bangladesh.

This is going to be a lot more involved

than what I imagined, I tell you!

He'll be working on one of the busiest and most dangerous waterways

on earth, where ferrymen take their lives in their hands every day.

If they hit you, they're just going to cut straight away through this boat.

Living the life of a Bangladeshi boatman,

Colin will witness the struggle

for survival on the banks of the Buriganga.

It's just like, er...

..leaving my girls down there.

To a Londoner, the Thames is the life and soul of London.

Without the Thames, London wouldn't be here.

And you can't get more London than the Woolwich Ferry.

Bridge Officer Colin Window has spent most of his life

working on the Thames.

He's recorded.

19 on foot and 27 on the deck. South.

Couldn't have chosen a better career for myself.

You never have a day where you just, you know,

"I don't want to go to work".

Yeah, you come to work. It's part of... It's what you do.

These thousand-ton ferries make 50 crossings a day,

carrying more than two million passengers every year.

There has been a ferry crossing at Woolwich

in East London for more than 600 years.

And Colin's family, the Windows,

have plied their trade on the Thames for generations.

My granddad owned his own barges,

and then his dad before him,

his dad before him. It comes down generations. The Window generation.

Colin's father, Victor Window, was a tugboat captain.

He appeared in this 1960s film about life on the Thames.

-ARCHIVE:

-'And the General Six is ready for work.'

'General Six receiving, office. Over!'

COLIN: The one thing you mustn't do is let your name down on the river.

You don't want to put a black mark

on the family name by doing something stupid.

So, yeah. It gets into your bloodstream.

And that's what you are.

You're a river man from start to finish.

Colin also lives near the Thames on Canvey Island in Essex.

Put her lead on. Sit!

Good girl.

Put your coat on, please, Ruby. You need your hood up.

'We've got a normal, average family.

'Two kids, wife.

'Semi-detached three-bed house.'

They're in the other room. Come and get it, please. Quickly!

Haven't got loads of money.

What I earn each week is spent each week.

Kiss Mummy goodbye. Bye-bye.

'But we've got a happy life here, I think.

'It's just a standard, everyday life.'

See you later, darling. Won't be long.

We are the average. Mr and Mrs Average!

The Woolwich Ferry was specially designed and built for this crossing,

and for negotiating the strong tides of the River Thames.

Got two engines either end, 900 horsepower each.

They've got fantastic manoeuvrability.

They're one of the best boats on the river for putting...

Wherever you want them to go, they will go.

They go sideways, diagonally, whichever.

But in a few days,

Colin will be leaving London to skipper

a very different ferry in Bangladesh.

It's going to be really, really hard.

I suppose Third World, isn't it, really?

We've never been to a country like that.

I know people go on holidays to these types of countries and things,

but we've never done that and it's only what you see on the telly.

That's all my clothes and then...

..being hot and sunny out there, I thought I'd put my panama hat on,

protect my ears from the sun.

Dhaka, Bangladesh.

More than 6,000 miles from the Thames.

Like London, the city is built on a river, the Buriganga,

part of a huge network of rivers that dominates the country.

Dhaka is one of the most densely populated and fastest growing

mega cities in the world.

Half of the city's 15 million people live in crowded slums.

With so many people living near water,

the river is blighted by pollution and disease.

The roads are choked with traffic and the river is no better.

The main port has to deal with more than 50,000 people a day.

Rammed with huge gravel barges, cargo ships

and passenger boats,

as well as thousands of small wooden ferries,

this is one of the most congested waterways on earth.

This is just incredible. You've got so many... thousands of people,

just milling about.

I've been to Smithfield in the busy times.

That's busy, but this is just absolutely crazy here.

This is Colin's first chance to see the Buriganga River

in all its glory.

We're here!

It's quite busy, quite a few ships.

Ah! It's black!

It's unbelievable!

You've got...

boats turned upside down.

The rubbish that's on the foreshore is unbelievable!

Don't anybody clear it up?

And the kids are swimming in there.

It's absolutely filthy.

During his stay in Dhaka, Colin will be working

with 70-year-old ferry skipper, Mr Muhammed Abdul Loteef.

Pleased to meet you, Mr Loteef.

Which one is yours? Which one do you drive?

OK. Thank you

If Colin is expecting anything like the Woolwich Ferry,

he's in for a surprise.

These?

Not that?

No.

COLIN LAUGHS

Well, that's a surprise!

I thought I was going to...

COLIN LAUGHS

These are sampans,

small wooden ferries powered and steered by one oar.

In just over a week, Colin will have to take control

of Mr Loteef's sampan and cross the river

with a boat full of passengers during Dhaka's notorious rush hour.

I'm used to a thousand tons pushing around

with two great big engines

so this is going to be a lot more involved than what I imagined,

I tell you. It's going to be a testing time.

It's time for bridge officer Colin Window to inspect his new vessel.

This...yeah.

Whoa...ha ha ha! This is crazy!

Mr Loteef's quarter-mile crossing is roughly the same

as the Woolwich ferry.

But the Buriganga holds more danger than the Thames.

In his tiny sampan Mr Loteef has to run the gauntlet

of enormous cargo ships and passenger boats

that plough their way down the river.

Do you think it is possible for me to be a good ferryman here?

With your help, we'll be fine.

You've got so many different ships going up and down,

you've got hundreds of these ferries just working around,

it's just utter chaos.

You've got to wheedle your way through them.

See, you've got a massive one coming up now. Obviously he can see us

but he's not going to be able to move.

Hopefully Mr Loteef is going to get us out of the way very soon

cos it's getting incredibly close now!

I would be paddling like mad now to get out of his way.

This would be a reportable near-miss on the River Thames.

They're giving the thumbs up, they've seen us.

But they can't do nothing.

We're OK though.

We made it!

There are no emergency services on the Buriganga.

If there's an accident it's up to the other boatmen

to come to the rescue.

Unlike London, Dhaka has few bridges.

Boatmen like Mr Loteef ferry thousands of passengers

between the city centre and the residential areas

on the other side of the river.

That's the last of our passengers.

We'll push off.

It costs two taka - or just over a penny - to cross the river.

To earn enough money to support his family,

Mr Loteef has to make the crossing more than 60 times a day.

It's backbreaking work in temperatures of up to 40 degrees.

These guys that are actually plying their trade going backwards

and forwards are really pushing themselves to the limit every day.

They must be a really hard, hard people here

to be able to cope with this, day in and day out.

I feel knackered after an eight-and-a-half hour shift.

I don't know what I'm going to feel like once I do this.

Once... Yeah. Once I get perfection of the boat handling

then I will get across there, definitely. Hopefully.

In Bangla how do you say, "get out the way"?

-Soro.

-Soro?

-Soro.

-Soro. You just go, "soro, soro."

What about "stop"? Stop.

-Thamo.

-Camo?

-Thamo.

-Thamo. Right.

Mr Loteef, what English phrases do you know?

My god!

"Oh, my god," is that the only English phrase?

It's a three-mile ride to Mr Loteef's house.

This is your house, yeah?

Mr Loteef and his family live in a simple room

in one of Dhaka's hundreds of slums.

-Wife.

-Your wife?

-Wife.

-Pleased to meet you.

Five people share the tiny room.

Is this your grandson?

-Muhammed Khaleque.

-Muhammed Khaleque?

-Khaleque.

-Khaleque.

-Khaleque.

COLIN LAUGHS Good boy.

This is your whole house, this is what you live in?

All your family, yeah?

Yeah.

You're quite affluent in this area then?

This is just unbelievable. They're living in...just sheds.

I've got better sheds at home and I thought mine was falling down.

It's just come as a major shock to see how these people...

You expect tramps and, you know, people that haven't got a job

to live like this,

not a wealthy ferryman, owns his own boat,

and yet he has to live like this. He's earning such little money.

It's ridiculous.

This is my room for tonight?

Colin is going to spend his first couple of nights in a nearby shack.

Wallpaper.

Yes, there's plenty of news. We've got the football.

"Chelsea's toughest test, Wigan stuns Arsenal."

I'll read that story tonight.

And that's the window.

How many people here live in this square?

That's a lot of people in a very tight and small area.

I'll try and beat the rush! Yes.

Dozens of families share each toilet block and kitchen area.

Most of the people who live here survive on less than a pound a day.

It's quite tasty, actually.

Chicken and chips with a knife and fork.

We eat chips most nights.

This is something else, this is just unbelievable.

Back home we just don't realise how well off we are.

How I'm going to cope - it's going to be very testing.

This will...yeah, definitely try me.

But...I'm here to do a job, and that's the job I'm going to do.

This? Yeah?

You want me to take my trousers off and put that on?

That's it.

I'm free.

This is something completely different to what we're used to.

They're going to rib me to pieces when I get home.

Well, good job there's no mirrors!

-You want me to sit down there?

-It's time for Colin's first lesson on the sampan.

Yeah!

OK.

He-hey!

Flick it, flick it.

OK, a bit more space to manoeuvre, yeah?

Want to push it over?

I understand. Every time I take over, all we do is go round in circles.

So this has got to be the first lesson to learn,

how to keep this thing going straight.

Otherwise, all we're going to do is keep going back to where we started.

It's that last flick - seems to elude me

and all of a sudden we go around in circles yet again. Here we go, see?

Underneath the hulls of the big ships, it's quiet and cool

and a good place for some vital boat maintenance.

Mr Loteef, what are these kids doing here now?

Why are they collecting the bottles? What's that for?

They keep paddling around in the rubbish, trying to pick up plastic.

Many of the children live under the steps by the river.

Children as young as eight work here

collecting and sorting rubbish to be sold on and recycled.

I'm from England, London.

-England?

-England, yes.

-Name?

-Name? Colin.

-Colin?

-Colin, yeah.

Mr Loteef is teaching me...

Yes.

How long have you been here?

Why did you come here?

So it's a better life for you here, rather than being at home?

Looks to me like you've got all these kids,

all these children, who just all day long, every day,

probably seven days a week,

are just sorting out rubbish and trying to recycle it.

I know these kids need somewhere to live and someone to look after them

but this is not the way, this is not the way.

Munia is one of an estimated 250,000 children

living rough on the streets of Dhaka.

Many beg for money to survive.

Others collect rubbish, like Munia.

The few pence a day that they earn

is all that keeps them from starvation.

These children rarely have an education.

They are vulnerable to abuse, malnutrition,

disease and exploitation.

You didn't think this existed anymore.

This happened 100, 150 years ago.

You wouldn't believe that it's still going on today.

You hear it, but you don't really take it in until you see it.

It's just a crazy, crazy place.

For what they've got to put up with and what they have to live in,

day to day - you just can't imagine.

Bangladesh's rivers are vital to its transport and trade.

As well as passengers,

Mr Loteef ferries goods of all shapes and sizes across the river.

Obviously these things are not as heavy as you think.

They managed to get it on, just the two of them,

they didn't need any help from me,

they were fine with that.

I didn't think that they could get that on there from here.

It's quite surprising, what they can carry on these things.

HE SINGS CHEERFULLY

Obviously he was extremely happy, he sung to me all the way across.

What he was singing about, I haven't got a clue.

There's more to being a ferryman than just rowing the boat.

Before Colin can skipper the sampan,

he's going to have to master Bangladeshi money.

So I have to be very careful and count exactly,

and look at what they're giving me?

Mr Loteef sometimes transports the plastic collected by Munia

and the other children

up river to be recycled.

On the way, Colin has a chance to practise his counting.

Dosh.

Dosh. Ten.

Ten.

Bish.

Bish?

Bish, 20.

-Dui.

-Dui. Two.

-Dui.

-Dui.

-Deen.

-Deen?

-Cha.

-Cha?

-Pach.

-Pach.

'Munia, she's happy to repeat and repeat,

'but she hasn't lost her temper with me yet.

'She's a very, very patient girl.

'She's obviously had a really hard life.

'She's found a small bit of refuge under them steps.'

-Quantash.

-Quantash?

'She's sharp as a razor. She's a really, really lovely girl.'

A quiet stretch of the river

provides an ideal opportunity for some more rowing practice.

This part of the river is heavily polluted.

The water is just thickening up and it's getting more and more...

more like treacle, up at this end.

You can feel it, it's actually thicker, it's ridiculously changed.

For as long as anyone can remember,

river gypsies have lived and fished on Bangladesh's hundreds of rivers.

But all that is changing.

So basically we need a lot of monsoon

to wash all this right down river, out the way,

so you get some nice, fresh water.

There were once thousands of river gypsies around Dhaka.

Now the few families that remain struggle

to maintain their traditional lifestyle.

As well as sewage and rubbish,

the pollution here comes from the hundreds of small leather tanneries

dotted along the riverbank.

They use chemicals that are more strictly controlled in Europe

because of the risk to human health and the environment.

The leather industry is important to Dhaka's economy, as Bangladesh

exports leather goods worth over £150 million a year.

Many of the finished products end up in Europe.

You've got all these chemicals from the tanning factories up here,

so, yeah, you've got everything coming and congregating here.

And it's just killing this part of the river.

It's been a gruelling day

but Colin finally seems to be mastering the boat.

Colin's day is finished.

But 11-year-old Munia

and the other river kids keep working on into the night.

Munia, what time do you actually finish work tonight?

What time do you finish and go to sleep?

You just fall asleep while you're working.

They work till they fall asleep

and then as soon as they wake up they're straight back to work.

It's no life for a kid.

You know, they're such nice kids, you know what I mean?

Really, really...really happy.

It's just like... leaving my girls down there. Shit.

Can't believe it.

When you think in a civilised society...

..you should look after your elderly and your kids.

They shouldn't have to work.

The elderly has done their bit, kids ain't even started yet.

So we've got to try and sort this out. Something's got to be done.

If Colin wants to succeed as a Dhaka ferryman,

he's going to have to toughen up.

Welcome to the taxi rank, Bangladesh style.

It looks like total chaos,

but there is a queuing system for picking up passengers.

If his boat drifts out of the queue, Colin will lose his place.

You've just got to fight your... Stand your corner.

Make sure you're not pushed out of the way, because they will.

They'll slide in there and wave and smile at you.

But they're in there to take your money.

CHEERING

You've got to stand your ground, show your assertiveness.

That's what I've got to do.

Colin has battled his way to the front of the queue

and is about to take his first passengers.

But he will need much more practice before he is anywhere near ready

to carry people out into the river.

Some days, when trade is slow, Mr Loteef works on into the night.

Woolwich ferry, the last crossing is eight o'clock.

We're all going home and having our dinner and watching a bit of TV.

This guy has to keep powering backwards and forwards.

You know, he's been at it all day.

He's had a small break I think for his prayers and that,

but he's still powering backwards and forwards.

He's 70 years old. You know, he's an unbelievable man.

He can't even see the landing pier clearly.

Even when he has to work late, Mr Loteef has a home to go back to.

That's not true for many of his fellow boatmen.

Around 150 ferrymen live here,

next to a huge bank of electricity generators.

Hello.

You've not got a house to go home to, you sleep here every night?

How long have you been living on your boat here?

He's like millions of Dhaka's inhabitants who have moved here from the countryside.

Every day, an estimated 2,000 people arrive in the city

having left their rural villages.

Mr and Mrs Loteef are typical.

They used to live in a much bigger house out in the country,

but they couldn't survive by farming.

The tough world of Dhaka's slums is the only place

they can earn enough to stay alive.

Nothing is easy. Whatever you do is hard work.

You've got the heat all the time so it's extremely hard here.

Colin is half way through his stay

and it's time for a break from rowing.

Today Mr Loteef is taking him to see a bit more of the country.

This is our seat.

SIREN WAILS

There's really only one way to see Bangladesh by boat.

And it's not long before the chaos of the city is left behind.

The smells are a lot fresher and it's a real difference

in environment here, because you've got this rural life, country life.

It's a beautiful country.

But traditional rural life here is under threat.

Bangladesh has always suffered from cyclones and flooding

but in recent years the storms have become more frequent

and unpredictable, and river erosion has accelerated.

Unable to survive, millions of farmers

like Mr Loteef have become environmental refugees.

This is the front line of global climate change.

Do you really miss this way of life

or would you prefer what you're doing now?

Although Mr Loteef is feeling nostalgic for his own village,

he couldn't support his family there by growing crops alone.

But just one cow would cost Mr Loteef more than he earns in a year.

I can sympathise with your situation.

But if things don't change then you might have to stay where you are.

I understand.

Er...

Shit, I'm doing it again.

'It all got a little bit emotional, upset me a bit.

'Poor guy's got to live in a hell hole just to earn some money.'

Hopefully, he can get enough money together -

he wants to buy a couple of cows and get back to his village.

He's 70 now, turned 70,

still a very fit man, still active, he wants to work the land

so hopefully he'll be able to get back and live his life out in his village.

Hopefully, he'll get back there and his hard work will pay off.

If Colin's going to hack it as a Bangladeshi ferryman,

he'll need to get used to the local currency.

Today, Mr Loteef wants him to practise collecting fares.

It's 14, 14. Ta.

-Too many?

-No.

These people are all in a hurry so I try to add up in...

two, four, six, eight, ten is fine, but you're trying to do

dui, parch, soy, aat, then dosh,

and it is so complicated cos your brain is just trying

to think of which number it is, rather than just counting up.

So I've got to try and get that off pat, get their change out quick

so that these guys can get on their way then I can load up again

and get across, cos that's what it's about.

It's crossings all the time, that's where we earn our money.

It's beginning to dawn on Colin just what he is facing.

It's a daunting prospect to have the responsibility

of these passengers on this tiny boat.

At least on the Woolwich ferry, if I hit something,

I'm normally bigger than whatever I'm going to hit.

So it is a daunting prospect.

All of Colin's training is over.

Tomorrow he'll work the morning rush hour as a ferryman,

taking passengers across the river for the first time.

He likes to hold my hand.

For some last minute advice, Mr Loteef is taking Colin to

meet up with some of the other boatmen who live in a disused ferry.

Tomorrow, Mr Loteef is giving me his boat,

so is there any tips that you guys can give me?

The thing about it is that I've had time to practise,

but if I need to go faster that's when I tend to lose

control of the boat a little bit,

so I don't think I'll be in a position where I can take that chance

and risk the lives of, you know,

possibly six or eight people in my boat.

It's making me a little bit nervous, I will admit that.

Thank you.

Please don't worry about me, I'm going to be fine.

I've worked on a river all my life, I know the dangers.

I'm looking forward to it, but I have reservations, you know,

but I'm sure I'll be fine.

We'll see tomorrow.

I've got to get my head down now, get a good night's sleep,

and we start tomorrow.

8.30am in Dhaka, Bangladesh.

Whoa!

Woolwich ferryman Colin Window from Canvey Island

is about to tackle the morning rush hour

as thousands of commuters cross the Buriganga river.

He will need to avoid being run down by the massive sand barges and

passenger ships and cope with the complications of Bangladeshi money.

But first, he needs to find some passengers.

Well, they seem to be admiring my boat handling, but...

It seems to be...

It seems quite a long queue at the moment.

Well, we've got to try and get on the end of it somewhere.

Oh, he's letting me in there.

No?

All right, OK, I'll go on the end.

The key thing about this place is keeping your place.

No one is going to get in between me and this guy in the blue lungi.

Business is slow,

because all the passengers are on the other side of the river.

This is ridiculous. This seems to be taking forever here.

Most of the commuters are coming from the south shore,

so I think I'm going to go over and bring back passengers.

So this is the first time crossing on my own.

I make sure that everything is done up as it should be.

And here we go.

There's hundreds...hundreds of boats running backwards

and forwards all shouting at me.

Here we go, yes!

There's a gravel barge coming up.

I'll follow these guys through.

Safely across, Colin's looking for his first passengers.

And we'll...

I'm in the queue.

Uh-uh-uh! Here we go. Here we go.

There's zero tolerance for queue barging here.

Woah! Slow down.

Four, five, six, that's it.

Woah! Sit down, guys, well done.

Right, here we go.

It's the moment of truth, as Colin takes his first boat load

of passengers out on to the river.

CHEERING

I earned 15 taka on that one. Not bad.

I got a little tip.

There's no time to hang about.

The rush hour is when a ferryman makes most of his money.

See some motor barges working down,

I'm going to go under the stern of that one.

Once this brick barge has come up...

..I'll be straight on the end of that queue.

Get in there!

It's a massive, massive responsibility I've got here.

I'm the skipper of this boat and these people are my responsibility.

Right. We've got another sand barge coming down.

There doesn't seem to be anything coming up river

so hopefully we'll go straight across.

But now is the time when the huge multi-storey passenger ships

fire up their engines for departure.

Seasoned ferrymen have learnt to give them a wide berth...

And never get stuck mid-channel when one is approaching at speed.

Ah, no, there's a ferry coming all of a sudden!

I'm all right. I'm OK.

Things can change here in a matter of seconds -

I see the sand barge coming down and I thought, yeah, great,

the river was clear, not realising that one of the ferries

decided that he's going to head straight towards us!

That's 14 taka.

Five, yeah.

And that's for that, yeah? Eight taka. Excellent.

Thank you.

Extremely, extremely hard work.

The heat must really take it out of Mr Loteef to do this all day,

every day, till 12, 1 o'clock in the morning.

25,000 commuters and their goods cross the Buriganga River

every morning, and most of them are transported by these little

boats that have barely changed in thousands of years.

Thanks a lot.

Today, one of them is skippered by the Bridge Officer of the Woolwich Ferry.

But he's not necessarily heading in the right direction.

They insisted on giving me the money there

and the guy was expecting his change.

Once I took my eye off, these are like corks, they just spin

round and round and round and I was heading the wrong way.

It's 10.30, and Colin has survived the Dhaka rush hour.

Mr Loteef, finished.

It's been a brilliant, brilliant experience

and these guys are fantastic men.

They know I come from a river background and obviously they

come from the same river background so they are the same breed as us.

I think I've done the Window name proud, because I think I can stand up

and say, yeah the Windows have come out here and we've conquered what

we were supposed to do, and we've ferried people across that river.

It's been...

Everything has been such an immense situation that I've been put in.

You get caught up in this whirlwind of...

Which I'm not used to.

Emotions, you know? And it's a weird, weird situation for me.

It was incredibly different.

Mr and Mrs Loteef.

Mr Loteef, I want to thank you

for the hospitality that you've shown me,

and for taking me into your lovely family.

It has changed me. The wife will be extremely surprised.

Extremely.

Bye bye.

Back in London, and Colin is once again at the controls

of the Woolwich ferry.

When I come back here, it's like when normal people

come back from holiday and get in their bed and you relax,

because you are home, that's how I felt when I got back here.

That whole experience is going through your mind all the time,

you do process it slowly, you know, bit by bit

and try and make some form of sense of the whole chaotic nature

of what it was like out there.

You just want to try and make sense of it so you can try and find

a solution for some of them people, which is what I'm trying to do.

Mr Loteef was quite easy to satisfy. We knew what he needed

was them cows and he could get his life back on track

after 27 years of having to live that life.

Two cows, though that come to more money than what I thought,

but we sorted that.

With the help of a whip-around amongst his workmates,

Colin has raised over £500.

24 on foot, 37 on the deck.

This money allowed Mr and Mrs Loteef to buy the cows they needed

to make their farm economical again.

They have now moved back to their village

and will soon be joined by the rest of the family.

All he needed was just a little bit of help,

just a little lift up, so I bought him his two cows and sent him home.

Next time, a British nurse swaps her state-of-the-art A&E department

for the emergency room in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico.

She'll discover a city at war,

where almost all her patients are victims of gang violence...

..before experiencing the brutality first hand

in one of the most dangerous cities in the world.

I've never seen anyone murdered before, so...

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