Cold Weather Floater In Paradise

Korea is cold.

How cold is it?

Well, all the potable water pipes on the ship froze. The burst pipes spilled water all over the deck, which then froze into sheets of ice, many of which are in hard-to-see places or invisible in the dark. We salted them, but walking still required care, and more than one of us has gone down.

The sewer pipes also froze - with little or no notice. For the last five days, we have just two working toilets on the ship, one in the engine room and one in the cargo office, both of which are more than 7 floors below and all the way aft.

I was awakened from deep sleep by engineers below the house with hammers pounding on frozen pipes on day one, a rude awakening that repeated randomly throughout our port stay as they tried, and failed, to alleviate our toilet-induced misery.

I called the trek to the only working toilets "the walk of shame" if the sailor was too preoccupied to make eye contact when enroute, or "walking penguin" due to the stiff-legged way the concerned ambled aftward if they answered nature's call without respectful haste.

I was also awakened by fire alarms on several occasions when diesel exhaust from cargo overloaded the smoke detection system and set off the general alarm. Yes, one of them was during my deepest sleep.

Standing an 8-hour watch when it's 11 below 0 is a special kind of tedium. Every motion requires effort due to the many layers. Gloves must be removed for anything requiring dexterity, then put back on to keep from freezing. Breathing too hard can give you an icecream headache.

The battery-powered vest Stu recommended to me has proven its worth. The chemical hand warmers have made life much more bearable, as well... There is no part of me that likes the cold, but at least I came fully prepared.

Sadly, I think I've developed some type of allergy to my expensive wool baselayers. Have I continued to wear them despite breaking out in a rash?  Of course. It was 9 degrees Fahrenheit out there... I'm no fool.

I know there are some cold weather dwellers out there saying that this is not that cold - but add force 10 winds into the mix (that's 55 mile an hour, you filthy, bloodless landlubber), and the inability to leave your post or do anything besides observe, demand ID, and perform the occasional search will make even the frostiest of snowmen bitch in abject discomfort.

At one point, the wind snatched a cargo strap out of the ordinary seaman's hands. The strap and the dumpster lid he was trying to secure with it simultaneously struck him in the face, landing him in the dubious care of the chief medical officer, aka the second mate. He's a great navigator, but he is the medical officer by necessity and default, not because he's any good at it.

Thankfully, the ordinary's teeth survived unharmed despite being busted in the kisser, and he took it without complaint.

The tide at this port is almost 30 feet, so cargo ops can only take place when the tide is high enough for our stern ramp to reach the dock- if it's too low the ramp gets damaged, if it's too high then the ramp is too steep. The window of opportunity is two four-hour blocks of time per day.

Because the mooring lines need constant adjustment due to the tides, the chief mate made all sailors watch standers. My 8-hour gangway watch (as in Tacoma) was split up between me and one of the day workers - and the task of tending lines and moving lashing gear all over the ship for the longshoremen was divided up between us. 

I stood the first 4 hours as security watch and the second 4 hours doing cargo and lines. I also made new heaving lines because the Korean line-handlers stole our heaving line when we tied up.

I also was on standby from noon to 1600, but never got called out to do anything. I listened to the handheld radio as the sailors on watch worked while I drafted house designs in AutoCAD - designs I'll hand over to a professional (Paul) at some point.

After 5 long, hard, miserable days in port, we departed at 0500 for the anchorage where I am writing this.

We expect to be here for only 2 days, then return to the dock to take on cargo to replace that which we just offloaded.

How long should that take? I'm told 2 weeks. 

Sometimes it's easy to disparage the people out here doing this job. For the most part, they're misfits. In large part, they're unemployable in standard shoreside workplaces. 

But if just anybody could do this job, then I want to see them try, because the one thing all these people have in common is a psychological toughness and resiliency that can handle pipes clogged with turdcicles. When working long, uncomfortable, and dangerous hours. While locked inside a cage with other maladjusts. For extended and protracted periods of time.

And laugh about it.

I guess we'll see how much we're laughing after two more weeks of this kind of cargo op... Just 5 days of it definitely kicked the shit out of us.