We spend a lot of time waiting for tugboats. There's never enough of them, and we can't do much without 'em. Still and all, it's frustrating to operate on a strict schedule, putting in overtime to be sure to make deadlines and avoid delays, and then sit and use our thumbs as fart corks while someone else's shitty time management (not necessarily the tugboat operator) makes us all look like shoemakers.
We're between jobs this afternoon (Thank the seven mad gods of the sea; long may they shit light on the heads of the damned), but had to move a couple of times to make room at our lay berth. Phone calls that end with "they'll be right over" tend to disappoint.
There's only TWO, just two ways to get a tugboat to hurry the hell up and bump you to let you know he's here; you've got to do something. Either a). make a sandwich or b.) take a dump. That's it.
Honest, it works. It happens so often that you can hit the deck with a hammer outside the house, and 20 seconds later someone comes out of the house buckling their belt looking for a tugboat, even when you're in drydock. It's actually kind of cruel, which, obsviously, makes it funny.
Daddy? I’m gonna throw up…
9 minutes ago