I'm up, I'm up

Well.

       Unfortunately, my retarded choice of careers has made me pretty good at waking up on short notice and on short sleep. 

   I'm good at getting my shit in gear, but I don't have to be pleasant about it when it's on account of stupid. 

    I'm on nights this week, and a ULCC (Ultra-Large Container Carrier, a supersize ship) was our customer. I got us all fast, transfer hoses connected and the papers sorted within 2 hours, which is fast for a French flagged ship, and the oil flowing shortly after. Later B relieved me at 0530, and I showered and went to bed to read until I was ready to sleep. 

     As often happens in the days after a 12-hour shift in my circadian rhythm, my sleep is fitful. Bad dreams, like my id, ego, and superego were taking a shit on my happiness. So it goes. 

 Somewhere in my mind I was aware when B kicked on the deck hydraulics; in cold weather the pump, which runs off our cargo engines, gives off a rattling somewhat piercing whine when engaged in cold weather- the colder the louder, so think train horn in November, jet taking off in January- the cold hydraulic fluid in the pump and pipes does not love being moved and starves the pump a bit, causing cavitation that lasts until the 130-degree warmed oil in our sump tank reaches it and it quiets down to an annoying hum that makes your testicles and teeth itch, vaguely, deep inside. 

 Thst hum is B using one of the two big cargo cranes, as the fuel hose we were using weighs over a ton,  and the ship, being big, had a manifold connection 60 feet above my deck. Big boat, like I said. 

  The whirrs, thumps, hums and clanks are normal or not, and the not-sleeping part of my mind hears most of them and classes them, without waking me. Usually. 

 So I was still sleeping at noon, and I think I was between REM cycles, since I was sleeping more peacefully, when I felt our assist tug bump us as they started sending up lines in preparation for sailing off the ship. Again, all normal. I'm still asleep. 

    The tug blows their whistle, a deep and loud thing, which means the ship's deckhands wandered off and need to come back to cast us off. I hear it, muted but not that muted. Again normal, but I'm awake, though I'll doze right off again. No big deal. 

   The whistle blows again some short time later. I was already maybe asleep, or close to it. Annoying. Pretty normal. The ship's deck crew are ill disciplined, or maybe just busy. The 3rd party bunker surveyor who verifies our fuel numbers said the officers on the ship were tyrannical, bordering on abusive to the Filipino crew. 

    And next whistle blast goes on, continuous but with little annoying quarter-second pauses, FOR 3 MINUTES. 

     I hear nothing after that but I'm awake now. That ain't normal and I'm annoyed. It's only noon, and I'll be up until 0530 again tomorrow. I need good sleep, which has been elusive since Wednesday.  I fell asleep somewhere around 0700ish. 

   I'm in bed, stewing, annoyed, but this stuff happens at times. Even if I'm not sleeping, a lifetime of working on the water has taught me that lying in bed in repose, eyes closed, while not super restful, has some marginal value as a sleep substitute. IIRC, 3-4 hours of this is roughly equivalent to 45 mins to an hour of sleep. 

AGAIN with the 3 minute whistle. 

 I'm not furious, just ennervated and exasperated. Once or twice a year this happens. 

        Then... nothing. No thumps, and I don't hear the tug's wheel wash. 4200hp, with two bit 8-foot diameter props, the tug transmits vibration and prop noise to our hull, and they're 25 feet behind me, so I should hear them, feel them AND hear at least the two stern lines, heavy hawsers, thump down on deck, only 10 feet or so from me. 

Nothing.   Then voices. Annoyed voices, not yelling.  Then some yelling, but not annoyed yelling, just info being passed. 

 This is why we have 2 senior VERY experienced guys on the HQ, 2 masters. For non-emergencies, the guy on watch got it. 

Still quiet. It's 1230 now.  I hear B go by outside my room, cursing softly to himself. Not normal.  

  I'm not sleeping amd I'm not feeling zen. I get up to take a leak and talk to B. Why not? I'm not resting. My blood pressure is up to a full head of steam. 

    It seems the tug's engineer, a 400lb mulleted redneck kid, an absolute fucking idiot, but decent engine mechanic, decided that a 45 minute shitshow of a failed departure, while the tug's engines are running and the crew's on deck and captain at the wheel, well, this will be a great time to take the tug's steering offline and do some maintenance that will take an hour to get steering restored. 

 Mind you, this motherfucker, may he die of blood loss from super herpes, did this while the tug was trying to get under way. 

 So now, with the ship's deck gang there and one of our 8 heavy hawsers already cast off, we gotta wait while Lenny pets the fucking bunny. 

I know the captain well. Knew him as a deckhand, knew him as a junior mate and later an experienced mate, and know him as a very competent captain. As a deckhand he had a famously bad temper. Dangerous. Very dangerous, as in almost did time for assault as a kid at home dangerous. Marriage, age and reaponsibility made a solid citizen out of him, but I'm going to bet that fucking soup fork of an engineer got a screaming-at that will hurt the dumb fuck's future descendents. 

 For my part I wish that trashbag engineer be sent ashore, but I ain't King Tugboat, sadly. He rubbed me the wrong way on day 1 when I first met him a few years ago. Overfamiliar manner, , bad breath, too fat to move at a reasonable pace, and walked right over lines while I was stowing them, stepping on one, causing me to near pull a bicep, before waddling away without helping stow lines. A shitbag seaman, right there, not a shipmate. We help each other. Everyone does. 

 Seriously. Fuck that guy. But good to know I AM at least sometimes, a good judge of character, or lack thereof. 

 

 *****

 It's 1420. Almost 2 1/2 hours since this hsppened. We JUST got under way. I'm up commisersting with B, who refrained from climbing down on the tug to energetically recreate line #2 from Humpty-Dumpty. 

Well, let's see what today has in store now.