So every ship is different, and some are more different than others… my current ship is at the shipyard and that means we sailors are on a totally different schedule than we would be on if we were under way, making way. One big difference that took some getting used to was going on an eight hour watch… my new watch, while at the quay, is midnight to 0800 (really 2345 - 0745)- or, as it has been called for time immemorial, “the midnight watch.”
I am currently almost through season 3 of “Californication,” a remarkably explicit sitcom given to me by the first Bos'n on the Polk (and now mi amigo), and I have started rereading the "Game of Thrones." The proclivity of modern sailors for amassing large hard drives full of music and video is one I am glad I have tried to develop… I literally do nothing for the first 6 hours of my watch. Pull ups, push ups, jumping rope, reading, and watching movies… more movies than pull ups, I’m afraid...
After I’m relieved I have about 15 minutes to change and get out on deck, b/c at 0800 is the daily safety meeting, which kicks off my 4 hours of overtime. When do I eat, you ask? I take about 15 minutes after the meeting to throw down whatever I can fit into my piehole. The deck work goes so quickly after the full midnight watch… I grab a needle gun and go to it with a gusto. If I had to compare the two parts of my day in terms of apparent time, my watch feels 12 hours long and my OT only 2.
I bought my brother’s motorcycle. I think I have already not spent several hundred dollars on taxi’s, but I can’t say I have saved any money… what I can say is it’s nice to explore and just get lost in Charleston and the outlying areas. While getting sea time.
And friends Beth and Dan (former owners of Seattle’s Aster Coffee Lounge) now live here with their bouncing baby boy so I have been fortunate enough to spend a little bit of time with them. And agree to help them move stuff. And borrow their garage. And eat Mexican food. And go to the beach. You know… friend stuff. Beth is now running her dad’s business (marine related, of course) and tomorrow I go out on their schooner for brunch. It’s a hard life, I know… but if anybody could do it, anybody would, right?
And Laura has a ticket to come visit, as well. Yay! So I’ll do my night shift while she’s here (I really can’t get out of it) and then spend the two days she’s here zombified-but-happy.... Barring any unforeseen complications it will be the first and only successful visit we will have pulled off- and then only because this ship has more hoses, pipes, cables, wire looms, lines and walkways holder her fast to the dock than she can shake off between now and then.
Actually, being in the shipyard is more like having a job than being a sailor…
I am currently almost through season 3 of “Californication,” a remarkably explicit sitcom given to me by the first Bos'n on the Polk (and now mi amigo), and I have started rereading the "Game of Thrones." The proclivity of modern sailors for amassing large hard drives full of music and video is one I am glad I have tried to develop… I literally do nothing for the first 6 hours of my watch. Pull ups, push ups, jumping rope, reading, and watching movies… more movies than pull ups, I’m afraid...
After I’m relieved I have about 15 minutes to change and get out on deck, b/c at 0800 is the daily safety meeting, which kicks off my 4 hours of overtime. When do I eat, you ask? I take about 15 minutes after the meeting to throw down whatever I can fit into my piehole. The deck work goes so quickly after the full midnight watch… I grab a needle gun and go to it with a gusto. If I had to compare the two parts of my day in terms of apparent time, my watch feels 12 hours long and my OT only 2.
I bought my brother’s motorcycle. I think I have already not spent several hundred dollars on taxi’s, but I can’t say I have saved any money… what I can say is it’s nice to explore and just get lost in Charleston and the outlying areas. While getting sea time.
And friends Beth and Dan (former owners of Seattle’s Aster Coffee Lounge) now live here with their bouncing baby boy so I have been fortunate enough to spend a little bit of time with them. And agree to help them move stuff. And borrow their garage. And eat Mexican food. And go to the beach. You know… friend stuff. Beth is now running her dad’s business (marine related, of course) and tomorrow I go out on their schooner for brunch. It’s a hard life, I know… but if anybody could do it, anybody would, right?
And Laura has a ticket to come visit, as well. Yay! So I’ll do my night shift while she’s here (I really can’t get out of it) and then spend the two days she’s here zombified-but-happy.... Barring any unforeseen complications it will be the first and only successful visit we will have pulled off- and then only because this ship has more hoses, pipes, cables, wire looms, lines and walkways holder her fast to the dock than she can shake off between now and then.
Actually, being in the shipyard is more like having a job than being a sailor…
And editing?
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