Tour de farce continues

 

        Whoo, I am SORE today. 

          I'm back in beautiful Bayonne New Jersey, the French Riviera of New York harbor, this morning. 

     I finished up my last week in Philly yesterday, and it was a damn good week... it reminded me of what my job USED to be like, when I truly liked my job. Interesting jobs, smaller ships, time to do what we needed to do. 

     It was just as busy in Philly as it is here for us, but as there is almost always a slightly longer steam in between load and discharge, it allows you to recharge your batteries in between ops... just 30 minutes more sometimes, and that's enough. And I mean, the weather was fine too, mostly.  I saw bald eagles just 1/2 mile from the company's office.  The most startling thing of all, and it was a minor thing, but the oil terminals are so SILENT there. No scream of pumps, or steam lines hissing, no having to compete with 30+ people on the same radio frequency to talk to the dockman... all good. 

        So, just as the ride last week from NY to Philly was a trial that ended up being ironically humorous, the ride yesterday from Philly to NY was terrible again, but this time not funny in the least. Frightening and infuriating this time. 

     My day started at 4am yesterday, which is close to normal- I got about 3 hours sleep since I was doing an odd watch rotation last week, but so be it.  I got a ride by tug to the company office/HQ, which is a lot larger than the NY office HQ, real estate being what it is in NY.  The philly office has 1/4 mile of dock space, and it was absolutely jammed up for crew change. There was literally no space whatsoever for me to get ashore, but in the middle were 4 tugboats all rafted up side by side, so with my Large Collection of stuff, me being homeless at work with my barge in shipyard, my worldly posessions at work and I did a 4 tugboat bag drag, which is a ballbuster.  Literally. The bulwarks, or gunwales, are 4 feet tall or more, and canted inward, so you end up crushing your nuts as you get a leg over, and with the inward cant, plus the tugs' bumpers (our tugs have a rubber bumper about 12 inches thick surrounding the hull at the waterline), it's 5-6 feet from one bulwark to the other, so passing a heavy seabag, a trash bag of winter clothes, a trashbag of summer clothes, leftover groceries, a bag of frozen meats, my bedroll, my laptop bag... basically 8-9 bags of shit, it's a workout. 

 X4. 

 THEN I climbed up a ladder to get ashore, back and forth with my shit... which I then could drag to the parking lot. 

 If that was tedious to read, I assure you it was tedious to actually do. 

        I got to the Philly office with time to spare, and I got to see some shjpmates and had a noce talk. One of them, one of our senior tug captains, was going in the same crew van to NY as me. I even got to see one of my former trainees, now an experienced tankerman down there. It was a good time. 

 But the van ride... there were 5 of us in the van, and our stuff, and it was pretty tight but we fit everything.  The van driver was a tall black guy, hitting his vape pretty hard while we were loading the van. Different comlanh from the one we use in NY. 

   What was in that vape?  I'm guessing the good stuff because the driver was TERRIBLE.   He cut people off, and jerkednthe wheel, drifted within inches of other vehicles, and got lost repeatedly WITH THE GPS OF HIS PHONE ON!   He kept driving when the GPS told him to turn, missed highway exits, even got off the highway and into an office park before I realized we were fucked up, and when I piped up and said 'Hey, where the fuck are we?' He said 'My bad, I was following the GPS.'   

 No, no you weren't. You were driving while high, and not looking at your phone, and only half-listening to it as well, you fucking retard. 

 Being an idiot AND high is a terrible combimation. 

 After this pretty much all of us yelled out directions, which he sometimes got right.  There was cursing. 

    As we approached NY his high peaked. 

    We were somewhere near Staten Island when the drugs began to truly take hold.  The driver weaved, drove 2mph in traffic with an empty HOV lane next to him (until I gently said 'bro, take that left lane next to you, please'). Then once we got over the Tappan Zee bridge he ran through some red lights until we all chorused 'Red Light!' every time. He then smacked his sode mirror off a parked truck's mirror. And missed the turn off to the side street to our office, and was headed for The Battery tunnel entrance until we all got yelling again. 

       I got off that van drained, ennervated and pissed off.

    Oh. And also, the whole ride, rap music and black radio dj's, dissing each other I guess, and saying retsrded shit. He wouldn't turn that off.

    Made me happy to get out of that van.  4 hours for a 2 hour ride.   

     When we were 10 mins from the office, the NY crew scheduler called me and changed mh assignment for the week.  I had a pretty good gig lined up, a diesel barge normally left for the fuckups, elderly and lazy, as it has simple jobs and not many of those... but I went instead to the OTHER diesel barge, which works a little more, and better, goes out of town a little. 

   So I had some luck.  I'm on there now. I came aboard at a busy terminal in Bayonne NJ, and 5 seconds after putting my bags down in the house I was at the desk starting the calculations for a 3 part cargo blend, something I'll share at some point... anyhow  I got the figgarin' done and the signoffs signed, put on a poopy suit, (a boilersuit, coveralls, speed suit, whatever you want to call it), and fired up the hydraulics to pick up a cargp hose and swing the crane ashore, got us started and the 1st product loaded before getting relieved by the night guy. 

    By the time I was putting my clothes away, ot was after 1800, and I was getting sore AF. I got my stuff stowed, my bunk made up, talked with my wife a little and absolutely DIED to the world for 8 hours. 

     Today? I feel my knees and shoulders. We're waiting on the next tide to sail to a lay berth to sot for the day and let the squally winds die down a bit before we try to catch the tide tonight for the ride through Hell Gate (NY's upper east side and the entrance to  Long Island Sound) and The Race at the other end tomorrow, ultimately  to Providence RI to pump off before riding home to Brooklyn again. 

 Should be fun. But most fun of all I think I can sit my fat aching ass down today for a few hours.

Different but similar

 Wow, a lot happened in terms of my staid boring job of being bottom bitch and chief bottle washer on the water. Unexpected things happened and here I am 4 days later in Philadelphia, where I started for this company and spent my first 2 years. I haven't worked here in a decade or more... and I'm kind of enjoying it 

       Wednesday... was a mess.  It was so bad, the day went from being a miserable experience to funny to fine. Ironically, once I embraced the suck, the suck embraced me. 

     So I have an 0700 taxi arranged to pick me up from the decent Brooklyn hotel we crash at for crew change. We're expected to arrive to work ready to work so the company stows us in a hotel the night before crew change. 

 At 0650 the crew scheduler calls, tells me to cancel my taxi. There's no berth for me, she accidentally double-booked me for a spot that was already filled, and told me to stand by an hour or two. 

       The main driver here is that the HQ is headed for 2 months of shipyard work, where she'll be uncrewed the whole while. I am presently homeless, without a berth. 

     Already caffeinated, I pulled out my book (Nick Cole & Jason Anspaugh's 'Gods and Legionnaires') and sat tight as instructed. About 90 mins later I was told I would be Riding Over as a supernumerary on our biggest pushboat, basically being Johnny On The Spot for a week. 

 I moved my Very Considerable' pile of gear and food, since I'll be living out of my seabag for a while and anything I leave on the HQ will be stolen by the shipyard workers, and put most of it in storage on the tug. I volunteered to do some of the cooking and went to the grocery store with the Able Seaman, who doubles as cook, and we bought 2 weeks worth of groceries, planning out a few meals along the way.  We returned with his car packed with boxes of grub and I joined in in stowing it all. 

      It looked like a fun week. These guys were all friends and all of us, every one, were 50ish and grew up working class in the northeast. I talked more in the 2 hours I was there than I've done in years. We talked about everything gen X'ers talk about. Classic cars, joint pain, guys who we all knew who died, etc.  Good times. 

 And then the southern fleet crew scheduler called me... they needed me in Philadelphia, and could I get in a taxi right now, ASAP? 

    So that's bag drag number 3?  I load my mountain of crap in the taxi, and by then I am in a truly shitty mood and I can feel my pulse in my fingers and my ears, so I KNOW my blood pressure is jacked up.  Just... shitty luck. Seniority counts for nothing where I work, but I knew that. 

 My car driver is an African guy. I've never met him, but a few minutes after we leave he puts on some African gospel music in his home language. And this isn't the classics; no Abide With Me, no Amazing Grace... no, this is modern African synth pop gospel... And it's not pleasant to me.   But he's cheerfully singing along, quietly, and having a nice time, and I'm not going to fuck with a dude wants to commune with his maker. 

 Then, the drumming. 

 Yeah, he started drumming on the steering wheel. And singing. To a guy like me in that moment, absolutely pregnant with the anticipation of a bad time, it was like a knife in my ear. 

      At that point things went from shitty to a little funny. It was just such an ass-chapping morning, so truly trying in terms of little shitty things and being moved around like a fuckin' unwanted kid,  nothing at all truly bad, just mosquito bites to my soul... that it made me laugh a bit... and like that... I was ok. 

   2 hours later I was on a launch boat in Philly, to get to my assignment.   Crew change wasn't actually carried out on the pilot ladder, but the offgoing guy and I had our pre-transfer briefing while passing parcels and bags back and forth up and down a rope from the launch to the barge. 

         Turns out, though,  the other guy on here for the week is my buddy African Eric, who, along with my partner Big E, is in the running for the World's Nicest Man contest.  Eric and I have worked together several times and it's always smooth. He's enormously competent and a very positive person.  So big plus there. 

 And... I haven't worked the Delaware River/Chesapeake Bay area in about a decade I think. Can't remember. I had forgotten that this is a more pleasant environment to work in than NY harbor.  The ports and anchorages are much further apart than those of NY, where the average steam between load and discharge is about 35 mins. Here, it's 2 hours, and can run up to 8 hours.

 Our Philly fleet is having the same issues we do in NY. Too much work, not enough vessels. Still, the longer runs I find very refreshing. 

I watched the birds flying by today, out on deck. I haven't done that in years. 

      I may have not wanted to come here but I am glad I did. I'm still plenty busy, but it's humane here. 

Turnaround

 I got 4 nights at home only. So that sucked. 

   I had some very nice and relaxing moments. Not, perhaps, as many as I wanted or needed but they were there. Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife and my son all took some time off so we'd have a few whole days together, which we took advantage of, right up until the halfway point where things went to hell. 

 It was good while it lasted. Another death, and loss of a major contract in my wife's business, which means a financial hit. I'm glad we were all together, anyhow. Mutual comfort, mutual support. 

    All my bitching, I'm still aware that I've had it easier than many. I should be rolling with the punches more than I have been. I think that with shitty outcomes and increasing stress having risen slowly and steadily for a long while, my emotional reserves are being emptied, as things have more been like death by 1000 cuts than any particular major trauma. 

       Well, it's a terrible idea financially. But I'm taking time off starting 3 weeks from now.  Marathon, not sprint. I gotta get my shit together a bit. Tired of being a pill. 

Anyhow, to focus on the positive, I am headed to work, to earn, still vertical, and looking at the grass from the top of the stems, not the roots.    Well enough.

Airport

 So I'm at an airport burger joint, and I'm going home. 

     I'm going home a day late. I was already working a week of OT when I got word I had to attend some refresher training in-house at mh employer's NY offices. 

      Surprisingly, it was a good class. Apparently I needed refresher training, and it was a good way to have an office staffer who HAD to listen to our complaints, and being sailors, we always have many many complaints. 

       So I'm not thrilled to be going home for just 4 days and a wakeup but it is what it is. I'm not going back to the HQ when I get back either; she's headed to the shipyard for her 20-year maintenance cycle. I'll be whoring myself out for the next 2 months. 

    As  for what I've been doing, it's been a struggle. I've been pretty unhappy of late.  Hopefully going home will help. 

 Hell with it. 

Science lesson of the day: popular lies

  'The Amazon rainforest is being clearcut at a dangerous rate." 

  "The Amazon Rain Forest is truly the lungs of planet earth."  

      Both of these are stupid lies, obvious to anyone with a modicum of education in science. 

    The Amazon, through photosynthesis, does affix carbon dioxode and produce oxygen...during the day. 

 At night of course the Amazon CONSUMES massive amounts of oxygen during cellular respiration, which goes on 24/7, unlike photosynthesis, so much of that oxygen made during the day gets used back up, leaving a modest surplus net gain.  If we clearcut the amazon completely, the loss of oxygen cycling would actually  be fairly small.  

    The Amazon produces about 16% of all LAND-BASED oxygen cycling.  But land only makes up about 29% of the earth's surface. So take all that land mass, add up the plant biomass there, and figure out the offsets for deforestation and Reforestation.

     Reforestation is a thing too.

 New England, for example, is being reforested at a shocking rate. Once America's Bread Basket, its' forests are criscrossed with old stone farm walls where wheat fields grew.  If you project ahead at the rate of reforestation in New England, by the year 2550, parking lots will cease to exist. 

   Enter phytoplankton- single-celled plants in the ocean, which covers about 71% of the earth's surface. Phytoplankton are the true lungs of the earth... and phytoplankton are doing great, thank you. 

   The rich green conferva soup of the ocean in the boreal and temperate latitudes, the spaces between arctic/antarctic and the tropics... that green seawater is rich in phytoplankton. In the tropics, where nutrients are tied up in the land, there are still phytoplankton, in more modest but massive numbers. 

       Globally, we have macroalgae- seaweeds. The Sargasso Sea comes to mind. It's growing, btb. Gets stinky when it washes ashore but that's a blessing of nature, just not for our delicate noses.  All that carbon and nutrients waiting to be released in the neotropics where free carbon and free nutrients are a bit scarce. 

   Globally we also have cyanobacteria, the smallest living single-celled plant on earth, often called blue-green algae. Both free in the water column and growing on EVERYTHING wet, even on land too. 

  You know those dark stains on rocky outcrops? Blue-green algae.  And it's an oxygen-making POWERHOUSE.  A conservative guess is that it alone produces HALF of all global oxygen, even before you get to the algae, diatoms and other oxygen-makers in the ocean. 

       So don't buy into the panic.   We're gonna be ok.  I like a clean, less-developed earth for my own quality of life, myself, but the poor ass Brazilian Indios are big fans of  not dying of famine or tropical diseases in their own backyard, so let the poor naked bastards sell off some land and buy some goddam shoes and address the Hierarchy of Needs if they want. 

    Oh, fun exception to the plants sucking down oxygen at night... the pothos plant.  They have oxygen storage capability- they pick up extra during the day and use it at night, but always release a surplus. 

      I really am a font of useless info. 

 But seriously, get a pothos.  They do a good.job of trapping dust and processing some nasty co ntaminants in the air.  We had one on the HQ for over 10 years- it circled the perimeter of the galley twice over, must have been 80+ feet overall.  Killed us when it finally died. The jungle motif was a treat. 

 

Being Eastern European Means Never Having To Say You're Sorry

 No, this isn't about world events, fitle notwithstanding. I mean it IS related though... 

       I finally got part of what I've been looking for, a job that wasn't fucked up. 

    Part of it went right, which is fhe first time in 20 days thst has happened. 

We loaded oil for 2 seperate ships the other day. The oil for first ship I pumped off myself, yesterday, and praise be, it went right and it went smooth.   Finally. 

     Tonight for part 2?   Naw, it's fucked up. Back to normal for what normal has been this tour.

          So tonight we run shorter 'dog' watches, where we cut them short to rotate our schedule. As I'm entering my final week aboard, it's my turn to take the back watch, 6pm to 6am.  

           Tonight's ship is an oil tanker, and the engineer kept calling for pump throttle changes, which is annoying and not normal but also not dangerous, so... so be it.  But then he kept calling for shut downs- not for emergencies but for whatever reason. After the 3rd time I refused to start back up until we had a heart-to-heart, where I noted that in our paperwork package he signed a document saying that he would provide a 10-minute early warning for non-emergency stops and starts.  Aside from safety issues related to that, I told him that my pumps would likely lose prime if we shut down while transferring the last 15% of he oil.  

 Less than 10 mins after our talk, he did it again, and sure enough, my pump lost prime, so now I have a foot of warm oil that will turn cold and solid in that tank, and will take a week or more to get rid of over the next few jobs, fucking with my volumes. 

       So, shit happens and safety first... we all want to keep the oil in the tanks, mine and his,  and while I'm positive this was just an anxious engineer's timidity and unprofessional behavior, I'm not going to bet my career on it. He says shut down, I shut down, and we can unfuck an inconvenience a lot easier than we can an accident.

   Here's the thing, though, and my point, finally. I don't think I have ever heard an Eastern European person apologize.  They're stereotypically very arrogant, at least in my trade. Not all, of course. But many. Most, even... and perhaps that's me. Cognitive bias, bigotry maybe, I dunno. And the language thing; when  speak without use article, modifier or preposition in English, it make sound asshole. 

  But typically when I ask for one of them to do something or not do something, the answer I get is that it is all my fault. 

 Tonight, for example, when I lost prime tonight , Ivan says 'This you problem, no my. You buy this pump. Is bad pump.' 

    I was good about not fussing at him... but not good enough.  My internal monologue was all, 'say nothing. Be professional. Anything you say will not help.' 

 So I said 'Well, you no can get more oil. This you problem, no mine, hoss.' 

 When annoyed, I like calling people 'hoss.'  I don't know when that started.  

 I'm glad I didn't yell, though, or swear.  The way things have been, if I started, I maybe wouldn't stop. Down deep I know it's not worth it. My recent distemper was here long before this trashbag came into my life and of all the pain in the balls people I've dealt with, this guy's merely the most recent. 

 Gotta stay positive. 

   Edit:   Now after the job is done and we are all.fast at a dock to wait for our next loading berth to open up, things are not as bleak.  

    I've been getting some really high quality tugboat deckhands helping us out at arrival and departure. Sadly, these kids are mostly working for 3rd party tugboat companies, but still it's good to see and good for the workplace culture I try to keep on here.  

 My outlook has just been so dark lately. It's beyond being in a brown study. I am downright down, after so many unsatisfying days... and so a bright, friendly and interested hard working Ordinary Seaman on board is a breath of.fresh air. 

     When we sailed away from the tub o' surly bohunks earlier, by the time we cast off the last line, the deckhand had cracked a joke and broken the tension.  An hour later, after we were all fast, I showed him a couple of tricks and good practices with marlinespike seamanship; using the 'handedness' of the lay of the line, stovepiping vs traditional making off of lines, how to ID the snapback and safe zones of any line under tension, just dumb little things thst will make him better and that were taught to my idiot ass long ago... and in doing that I could feel the tension headache slipping away. 

 Still, I'm glad my day's done... for values of done. I get 8 hours free than back at it.  Dog watch days can be long days. 

 

These are my clutching pearls

 I gotta stop uding this blog as my ombudsman/fainting couch/tear-stained dear diary.  Every post lately has been about who/what failed me this time and how I heroically saved the day/bore the burden with masculine stoicism. 

     To stop my bitching, it would be really, really nice if I could have a cargo that loaded and pumped off well, or a day at home where my day didn't end with existential dread or 'Fuck it, I'm too tired to care any more today.' 

    Nothing yet, but I'm trying to find that day. Sure wasn't yesterday and today my day was already ruined by 0435 when I walked into the galley to caffeinate, eat a handful of blood pressure meds and vitamins, and B says to me 'Fuck, man...' 

         Maybe tomorrow. Sorry for all the whining.