Nothing so far has surprised me. After 20 hours of being on a jet next to an infant that screamed every hour, on the hour, I was taken by shuttle to a downtown Singapore hotel and was checked in by 0900. The food was awful and I only managed to snag about 3 hours of sleep before I had to catch my next shuttle to the port at 1600 that same day... Seems anxiety trumps melatonin even after 48 hours of being awake.
I put my luggage in my quarters and fished out my work clothes, and from 1730 until midnight I made crane lifts of stores onto the ship. The crane was, as could be expected, broken when I first tried to use it and I spent an hour waiting on it to get fixed by two electricians - one of which looked like one of the Allman Brothers and the other of which smelled like piss.
At midnight thirty we raised the gangway and by 0200 we were underway and secured for sea. Needless to say, by this point I was pretty punchy.
The existing Bosun’s Quarters had been, upon my arrival, reassigned by the old man to be the new second Third Mate’s quarters and I had been relegated to a previously unused room reserved for “riders,” those people who aren’t crew who nevertheless find themselves working aboard in some capacity or another. It hadn’t been used since its abandonment, which I place to be May of 2015 by the wall calendar; if it had been cleaned since the ship was built I would be surprised.
It didn't matter that all my stuff was still in suitcases and the room was filthy- I slept. Until 0600. Really!? Three and a half hours just wasn't enough, but I got up and started cleaning my new home-away-from-home for the next foreseeable future, and when 1300 arrived I donned my gear and did "desktop" drills, then worked the rest of the day.
My gang consists of three Filipinos (one known as Willy Wonka), The Great Dane (that same Dutch sailor from my first ship), and one other white guy acting as The Delegate. The Great Dane is pleasant but not all that bright and his grasp of English, I am discovering, isn’t as good as I recalled it was before I was the gang boss. Still, it was good to see him and we had a few laughs about "old times."
The Filipinos understand exactly what they want to understand and not a word more. They seem utterly confused by any direction, whether it be verbal or non verbal (i.e. Crane hand signals, which- if you don’t know- are universal). I see how this is gonna go. Yes indeedy, I do.
It didn’t take two days before the Mate and the Old Man realized I have skills and they turned the overtime on full blast - the last Boatswain only worked 8 hour days, apparently, and got few projects, if any, done. My goal was 12 hour days, and we’re on. I’m here to make money, honey, and who goes to sea to work 8 hours a day, anyway!? They immediately dumped a mountain of work on me and I haven’t let up, since.
The heat is something I had forgotten, though. It’s the hot season and I am frying in the sun. It takes a few weeks to adjust, but I’m 3 seconds away from taking a straight razor to my head- I have minerals and I’m downing a few gallons a day, but the radiation from the sun and the steel deck plating are, in a word, remarkable. We’re not even in Karachi, yet, either- and it is Guam-hot-plus, there.
I climbed down the ladders from the main deck down to the tank top, today, after a lost ladder- and if the direct sun is hot, then the inside of the hold is the inside of the sun, itself. I slather my heat rash with coconut oil and that's about all I can do about it until I adjust.
Next port of call: Hong Kong.
I put my luggage in my quarters and fished out my work clothes, and from 1730 until midnight I made crane lifts of stores onto the ship. The crane was, as could be expected, broken when I first tried to use it and I spent an hour waiting on it to get fixed by two electricians - one of which looked like one of the Allman Brothers and the other of which smelled like piss.
At midnight thirty we raised the gangway and by 0200 we were underway and secured for sea. Needless to say, by this point I was pretty punchy.
The existing Bosun’s Quarters had been, upon my arrival, reassigned by the old man to be the new second Third Mate’s quarters and I had been relegated to a previously unused room reserved for “riders,” those people who aren’t crew who nevertheless find themselves working aboard in some capacity or another. It hadn’t been used since its abandonment, which I place to be May of 2015 by the wall calendar; if it had been cleaned since the ship was built I would be surprised.
It didn't matter that all my stuff was still in suitcases and the room was filthy- I slept. Until 0600. Really!? Three and a half hours just wasn't enough, but I got up and started cleaning my new home-away-from-home for the next foreseeable future, and when 1300 arrived I donned my gear and did "desktop" drills, then worked the rest of the day.
My gang consists of three Filipinos (one known as Willy Wonka), The Great Dane (that same Dutch sailor from my first ship), and one other white guy acting as The Delegate. The Great Dane is pleasant but not all that bright and his grasp of English, I am discovering, isn’t as good as I recalled it was before I was the gang boss. Still, it was good to see him and we had a few laughs about "old times."
The Filipinos understand exactly what they want to understand and not a word more. They seem utterly confused by any direction, whether it be verbal or non verbal (i.e. Crane hand signals, which- if you don’t know- are universal). I see how this is gonna go. Yes indeedy, I do.
It didn’t take two days before the Mate and the Old Man realized I have skills and they turned the overtime on full blast - the last Boatswain only worked 8 hour days, apparently, and got few projects, if any, done. My goal was 12 hour days, and we’re on. I’m here to make money, honey, and who goes to sea to work 8 hours a day, anyway!? They immediately dumped a mountain of work on me and I haven’t let up, since.
The heat is something I had forgotten, though. It’s the hot season and I am frying in the sun. It takes a few weeks to adjust, but I’m 3 seconds away from taking a straight razor to my head- I have minerals and I’m downing a few gallons a day, but the radiation from the sun and the steel deck plating are, in a word, remarkable. We’re not even in Karachi, yet, either- and it is Guam-hot-plus, there.
I climbed down the ladders from the main deck down to the tank top, today, after a lost ladder- and if the direct sun is hot, then the inside of the hold is the inside of the sun, itself. I slather my heat rash with coconut oil and that's about all I can do about it until I adjust.
Next port of call: Hong Kong.
Finally got on line long enough to read all the way through the blog entries for your most recent adventure (ie: job). Lovely! Like the Idiot Abroad I truly am I didn't bring my chrome book and am having to rely on the goodness of family and sometimes strangers! Won't be back on line here till the weekend so am very pleased to have read your blog today. Smooth sailing. Make lotsa money. Momster
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