Monday, December 15, 2014

...see ya!

I'm typing this while waiting for a surveyor to finish his paperwork to document the volume of oil we loaded this evening. When he finishes, I can button up, call a tug, and we will sail out of this oil terminal to lie at a lay berth in Brooklyn to wait for the discharge orders to come in...

    ...once we're at the lay berth, I can call a taxi and go to the airport.

 Remember Wile E. Coyote's rocket-powered rollerskates? I really, really want to strap a pair of those bad boys on the surveyor's ass and get him off my deck. Foom!

      I'm looking forward to later on, despite the prospect of going through the rape-o-scan and possibly getting fingered by a 350lb woman in a too-small TSA uniform.

 Ah well. Used to be you had to pay to get your bells jingled.

I'll check in at some point. It's sunny and 78 most days at home, so don't wait up.


Rob said...

Safe travels!

Anonymous said...

Howdy, being a land lover....why do you need to lay up after you get your orders to sail? Also, ????why do you need to fly if you have a perfectly good ship to get around in?

Paul, Dammit! said...

Anonymous, sometimes you've got to leave a dock to make room for the next guy, but don't have to be at your destination right away, if, for instance, they've already got boats in their docks, or a ship that hasn't arrived yet. In those cases, you can either go to a lay berth, and wait quietly in a peaceful or productive stand-down state, or you can drift and creep underway, in which case the tug operators are glued to their chair and dodging traffic, fuel is being burned, and a nav watch is being set, rather than, say, me cooking dinner or doing maintenance.

And as for flying, I'm going home. My house is on a pond, not on the ocean, and it's about 1500 miles from where we sail for business.