The Good: I made it home Wednesday night. Late for Christmas by a day, but home anyhow.
The Bad: I picked up a nasty bug before crew change. I had a sore throat and high fever when I flew home.
The Ugly: The girl next to me on the plane was very rude. She was loud, elbowed the shit out of me and hogged the entirety of the armrest, despite riding bitch as a middle-seater who got a standby ticket.
The Happy Ending: Through judicious use of Dayquil, Irish Whisky and Alleve, I masked my symptoms, but spent 3 hours breathing directly on her as much as possible. There is absolutely NO chance she wasn't exposed to whatever plague I'm semisuccessfully fighting off.
Currently I'm no longer feverish, but just congested. It sucks, but hell with it, I'm home. Good enough.
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Thursday, December 20, 2018
A well-placed shot on shipowners
Well, and here I was just complaining that there was no inspiration for me to write.
DISCLAIMER: My views are MY. VIEWS. I do not represent anyone's perspective but my own as a private individual and mariner. Nor, heaven forfend, do I speak for my employer or anyone else. This is just me, shooting the shit.
https://www.workboat.com/blogs/washington-watch/are-accidents-now-managements-fault/
For example, in the 2015 allision of the tug Peter F. Gellatly with a pier in Bayonne, N.J., which caused $2.7 million in damages and fuel oil discharge into the waterway, the NTSB found probable cause to be poor communication between the captain and engineer.
DISCLAIMER: My views are MY. VIEWS. I do not represent anyone's perspective but my own as a private individual and mariner. Nor, heaven forfend, do I speak for my employer or anyone else. This is just me, shooting the shit.
https://www.workboat.com/blogs/washington-watch/are-accidents-now-managements-fault/
Are accidents now management’s fault?
Investigators determined in a report released in October that the probable cause of the allision of the Cooperative Venture
towing vessel with the St. Paul Union Bridge in Minnesota was “the
operating company’s assignment of an inexperienced pilot who incorrectly
positioned the tow prior to maneuvering through a turn with a following
current when approaching the bridge span.”
The Cooperative Venture was traveling southbound on
the river with a 17-barge tow and a crew of 10 when it hit the bridge.
This made Johannson take pause. In all the years that he’s studied
towing vessel accidents, he’s never seen the NTSB place probable cause
on a vessel’s operating company. He cited numerous other NTSB rulings
that faulted the captain or another individual on the vessel, not the
company.
For example, in the 2015 allision of the tug Peter F. Gellatly with a pier in Bayonne, N.J., which caused $2.7 million in damages and fuel oil discharge into the waterway, the NTSB found probable cause to be poor communication between the captain and engineer.
In 2013, the Bayou Lady was pushing six empty
hopper barges to a scrap yard in Morgan City, La., when the barge struck
a bridge near Houma, La. The NTSB said probable cause was the “decision
of the captain to transit the bridge opening in windy conditions.”
Johansson thought the Cooperative Venture decision
was especially interesting since the new federal towing vessel
inspection program, Subchapter M, which went into effect in July, states
that the master is responsible for the safe operation of the vessel.
The NTSB rulings have “gone from master to management, so
will the next step be the owner?” he asked. “I just found it striking. I
don’t know if anyone else sees it that way. I may be off on this, but
it seems like a big shift and it’s shifted very quickly.”
It’s not clear what this might mean for towing companies,
but Johansson said it could cause them to “think twice about how they
are preparing or vetting their crewmembers to be on a vessel.”
So, are accidents now managment's fault?
Yes, surely at times they are."Your replacment is just a phone call away." I've heard this said to me, and I've heard this said over the radio from other people, for example, talking about why a 105-foot tugboat was outbound from Galveston Bar after the 800-foot ship I was on was the first one to cross the bar inbound and the pilot begged the tug's captain to turn around for the sake of his men.
More on that sort of thing later.
The Cooperative Venture ruling is provocative, to be sure. I can't say whether or not this specific ruling is fair or not. Even so, I believe that this is a very important precedent. The NTSB may well be crossing the Rubicon here, I don't know. But my gut welcomes it.
I had a feeling when the minutes of the B-255 explosion hearings were made public, that we might see some positive developments within our industry over weaponized safety programs. In the case of the B-155 I knew within 5 seconds what happened. Seeing the photos showed me I was right. What made this tragedy newsworthy beyond the shock was how and why it happened, and the insistent, persistent and widespread accusations of corporate responsibility for the accident found some willing ears, which is not a usual thing.
...What we know, what we can prove, what is usual and what is right or wrong are all very important things that don't always matter when it comes to accidents at sea.
Without getting into deep background for non-mariners, the master is the owner's representative on board, yes, but he's also responsible for the vessel, AND THE PEOPLE ON IT. This presents unique challenges, always has. It's why 'the Captain goes down with the ship' became a trite saying. It's why that fatherless shitbag Francesco Schittino is doing 16 years for abandoning the Costa Concordia while there were passengers onboard, (although I'd argue that a 9mm slug to the brainpan would be more just). It's also why whistleblower awards for maritime issues are pretty hefty- it ends your career.
Most American maritime companies have extensive in-house safety programs, most run out by safety departments, employing multiple people. Safety management is a fucking growth industry.
From experience, I'll say that most maritime safety management is just CYA designed to limit liability, with an incidental impact on keeping people safe. It may have been a generational thing, a cultural resistance, or a refinement over time, but in my experience this is no longer strictly the case anymore as safety management began to realistically include risk management. I used to feel that there was an antagonistic relationship between mariners and their respective safety departments, as did (or do) many mariners. There was a feeling that safety departments were gunning AT you, not for you. This may still be an issue in some, perhaps many places, but I haven't felt that way personally in a few years. Perhaps I am maturing too, or maybe it's just that I have had a more positive experience with my current employer. Not to say I don't roll my eyes at some ridiculous shit (a 40-ton container drops on another company's barge, and we get a reminder to wear fucking HARD HATS), but risk management IS part of safety management, and the two combined have actually made things more safe. That, and I can bitch to the safety guys in my company, and they'll speak plainly about whether or not I'm dealing with an insurance-driven CYA issue, or actual safety-related improvement, but either why, why it has to be done. This actually helps. A shit sandwich goes down easier when you know that the guy feeding it to you has to eat it too, and my employer has decent folks there who have kept the real BS away from us. I have to laugh when my friends who work elsewhere tell me that they have to stop and have a safety meeting and log it when someone gets on a fucking 3-foot stepladder. See my comment about CYA bullshit. Not to say we don't have some BS to deal with, but all the safety rah-rah training does make us more safe, and also gives us support when asked to do something unsafe... and that's the crux of the matter, and circles back to what was said at the B-255 hearings. When asked to do something unsafe, or wrong, it is the duty of the captain, or the individual mariner, to say no. This is not exactly practiced in the breech, sadly. "My replacement is a phone call away" carries a lot of power when a man has a family to support. Happily, my own experience has been one of receiving support when I have made a safety call that made others unhappy. It's among the reasons why I'm still doing a job that is no longer something I love. Still, while I can understand succumbing to the pressure to perform for the people who hold the purse strings, just because something is hard doesn't make it less correct. Sometimes things really are black and white despite claims to the contrary. Look up captain John Loftus to see the price of doing the right thing, though. Doing the easy thing can come with a body count, however, and at the end of the day, one still has to be able to look in the mirror without flinching.
So, my own claims of being well-supported are at the end of the day supposed to be immaterial. But what happens when one is not supported? Apparently the B-255 is a really fucking good example. Safety departments can carry out safety kabuki. Companies can dock your pay for forgetting to put on a hard hat in an environment where nothing small enough to be stopped by a hard hat is over one's head. That's easy, and it's visible. "Look, we care. We care SO HARD." Then the asshole who answers the phone at night flips out when someone calls and says there's too much wind or current to dock safely. That's not cognitive dissonance; it's a feature, not a bug, of safety kabuki, and I'm sure it's a temptation to every shoreside manager to simply reply with 'I'll tell them not to do that again,' rather than asking for a head to roll, which, personally I feel should be the minimum response to keep that sort of shit out of the gestalt of shoreside coordinators. I've certainly been pressured to do things by people who don't care that they're asking me to do something wrong or unsafe, based on the knowledge that things will probably work out fine. Until it doesn't, of course, and, hey, that's on me if I fold, and I, and more importantly, they, damn well know it.
This is a great subject for another day with other, better informed people, however.
At the end of the day, things actually ARE safer for me, personally, courtesy of my employer's safety management program, but that doesn't remove the temptation to make everyone happy, to cut corners when there's pressure to get a job done that might not be ideal. The subtle pressures and implicit vs. explicit orders have always been extant, and have always been part of the mileau when talking about maritime accidents. It's been the prerogative of vessel owners and managers to shake their heads and deny culpability when they are questioned about their role in influencing a decision... but again, that's always been the way of it. We're supposed to accept the consequences of saying no. That's our job, right? Doesn't make it right or easy, and that's the refuge of the pressuring shoreside personnel.
Maybe that will change. I hope it does. It won't, and shouldn't, reduce responsibility on afloat staff to stand up to anyone who compromises safety. But it sure would be nice to reduce sources of that pressure.
Inspiration Wanted
If you've noticed, I'm not posting much. I'm not feeling it. It's been a tough and busy few weeks and not a lot to be cheery about. Eh, it happens. I'm not someone who likes spending a lot of time in a brown study, so I've been reading and doing little things to just keep myself buoyed up. Call it the blahs. Everything's fine, just nothing to be excited about and not much to enjoy. I'll be home next week, anyhow. Things should pick up just fine then.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Someone's gonna pay
The penalty for tool theft is to have a knuckle drilled out with a 1/4" drill bit.
But this is aggravated tool theft. Someone must die.
Thursday, December 13, 2018
disappointed
Well, F me with a broken broomstick.
Someone else's unfortunate bad luck just killed my Christmas. And that of my family.
I haven't been home for Christmas in a few years. This was supposed to be my year. Unfortunately, Christmas falls the day before my crew change this year, which means I'll miss it.
So, a friend was going to come in early, on the 24th, so I could go home. His kids are all grown up. An unfortunate circumstance, he came back early, and is already here working, so basically I'm fucked. I am going to miss Christmas... again. Given my schedule, if I make no life changes, I'll go 6 years between being home for Christmas.
I'm... not willing to do that. It's too late this year. I changed my flight last night, and that $700 for a frigging one-way ticket HURT. I've been home for a grand total of THREE Christmases since I joined this company 10 years ago.
I am happy to be working, drawing a salary. I am feeling a bit sorry for myself today. The ass-chewing I got when I told my wife was well-deserved.
Someone else's unfortunate bad luck just killed my Christmas. And that of my family.
I haven't been home for Christmas in a few years. This was supposed to be my year. Unfortunately, Christmas falls the day before my crew change this year, which means I'll miss it.
So, a friend was going to come in early, on the 24th, so I could go home. His kids are all grown up. An unfortunate circumstance, he came back early, and is already here working, so basically I'm fucked. I am going to miss Christmas... again. Given my schedule, if I make no life changes, I'll go 6 years between being home for Christmas.
I'm... not willing to do that. It's too late this year. I changed my flight last night, and that $700 for a frigging one-way ticket HURT. I've been home for a grand total of THREE Christmases since I joined this company 10 years ago.
I am happy to be working, drawing a salary. I am feeling a bit sorry for myself today. The ass-chewing I got when I told my wife was well-deserved.
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Comms and the Brown Water Sail Life
One of the biggest draws of moving to brown water work to me when I was sailing blue water jobs, was the ability to stay in touch.
My dad's days, you didn't talk to your loved ones while you were on ship.
When I was a teenager and fishing commercially, you could call the marine operator on the radio and they would connect you to your loved one via a collect call. Everyone could hear, but you could talk to family on your VHF or SSB radio. This was for emergencies, as it was expensive. There were a few guys I fished around who put HAM radios in their kitchen at home. so they could check in with their wives.
In the domestic trade, you'd grab a roll of quarters and get in line at the dock. Almost every terminal would have a payphone on the dock. I called my parents once a month like that for my first few years sailing.
If you were sailing international, you could call WLO or another store station by MF/HF radio and they'd do marine operator duty if possible. You could also order flowers delivered through them. Handy.
Cell phones changed everything. Some guys invested in Sat phones, but for shlubs like me, a cell phone was more than enough.I got my first cell phone while sailing on the West Coast one winter. Getting my ass kicked for 4 months was made more tolerable by being able to call my family when I wanted, and later when I met a nice Brazilian girl who I liked enough to keep around, we could use what limited skills we had in each other's language to say hi once a week or so. I thought we were living like the Jetsons when the Gulf of Mexico's oil rigs were wired for cell phone service. This is back before nationwide service, of course, when you'd pay by the minute for 'roaming' charges outside your home region. Back then, Petrocom (the company who owned the cell service out there) had deals with the cell phone companies, until one by one they started charging a premium for using petrocom's service.
The Panama Canal Zone was a local calling area, for some reason. Nobody got hit with roaming charges down there, and I called many friends during transits there. I wonder if that's still the way of it?
Today, well, it's a lot easier. I sometimes miss the joy and anticipation of knowing that today's the day I get to check in, but I also remember the anxiety of wondering about unanswered questions, and the mental effort required to put the things I couldn't answer in the back of my mind so I could focus on doing my job. Funny, when I think of that, of the mornings spent getting ready for watch or daywork in the days before cell phones, I think of the smell of the engine room of a steam-powered ship- that light gear oil and slightly musky hot-seawater smell from the evaps, not at all unpleasant. I guess I associate that smell with being able to let go the cares of the shoreside world... something I do miss being able to do at times.
After dinner last night, for example, my wife in Florida sent me (in New York) some pictures of the healing incisions from her surgery and we talked about the wound care instructions her surgeon had given her. I then forwarded the pictures to the surgeon (In California today) with a couple of follow up questions. When I woke up at 2300 for watch tonight, the surgeon had sent both of us a video message discussing my questions, giving advice and further instructions until her next check in. I'm supremely grateful to be able to be connected, to receive advice and updates, and offer them too. Under normal circumstances, it probably would have been easier for me 25 years ago to leave that behind me when I got aboard, but fact is that it's easier on my wife to have me available by phone while she's not at her best, which isn't as good as being there, but still better than having to wait a week or more between calls.
So, since we're free tonight and I've already handled the paperwork and projects I needed, and we're at a nice lay berth, there's little left to do beyond making rounds and the rest of the time is hopefully mine. Sometimes these quiet night watches are a real treat.
My dad's days, you didn't talk to your loved ones while you were on ship.
When I was a teenager and fishing commercially, you could call the marine operator on the radio and they would connect you to your loved one via a collect call. Everyone could hear, but you could talk to family on your VHF or SSB radio. This was for emergencies, as it was expensive. There were a few guys I fished around who put HAM radios in their kitchen at home. so they could check in with their wives.
In the domestic trade, you'd grab a roll of quarters and get in line at the dock. Almost every terminal would have a payphone on the dock. I called my parents once a month like that for my first few years sailing.
If you were sailing international, you could call WLO or another store station by MF/HF radio and they'd do marine operator duty if possible. You could also order flowers delivered through them. Handy.
Cell phones changed everything. Some guys invested in Sat phones, but for shlubs like me, a cell phone was more than enough.I got my first cell phone while sailing on the West Coast one winter. Getting my ass kicked for 4 months was made more tolerable by being able to call my family when I wanted, and later when I met a nice Brazilian girl who I liked enough to keep around, we could use what limited skills we had in each other's language to say hi once a week or so. I thought we were living like the Jetsons when the Gulf of Mexico's oil rigs were wired for cell phone service. This is back before nationwide service, of course, when you'd pay by the minute for 'roaming' charges outside your home region. Back then, Petrocom (the company who owned the cell service out there) had deals with the cell phone companies, until one by one they started charging a premium for using petrocom's service.
The Panama Canal Zone was a local calling area, for some reason. Nobody got hit with roaming charges down there, and I called many friends during transits there. I wonder if that's still the way of it?
Today, well, it's a lot easier. I sometimes miss the joy and anticipation of knowing that today's the day I get to check in, but I also remember the anxiety of wondering about unanswered questions, and the mental effort required to put the things I couldn't answer in the back of my mind so I could focus on doing my job. Funny, when I think of that, of the mornings spent getting ready for watch or daywork in the days before cell phones, I think of the smell of the engine room of a steam-powered ship- that light gear oil and slightly musky hot-seawater smell from the evaps, not at all unpleasant. I guess I associate that smell with being able to let go the cares of the shoreside world... something I do miss being able to do at times.
After dinner last night, for example, my wife in Florida sent me (in New York) some pictures of the healing incisions from her surgery and we talked about the wound care instructions her surgeon had given her. I then forwarded the pictures to the surgeon (In California today) with a couple of follow up questions. When I woke up at 2300 for watch tonight, the surgeon had sent both of us a video message discussing my questions, giving advice and further instructions until her next check in. I'm supremely grateful to be able to be connected, to receive advice and updates, and offer them too. Under normal circumstances, it probably would have been easier for me 25 years ago to leave that behind me when I got aboard, but fact is that it's easier on my wife to have me available by phone while she's not at her best, which isn't as good as being there, but still better than having to wait a week or more between calls.
So, since we're free tonight and I've already handled the paperwork and projects I needed, and we're at a nice lay berth, there's little left to do beyond making rounds and the rest of the time is hopefully mine. Sometimes these quiet night watches are a real treat.
Reduced Calorie social media diet
We've got a watch off today, and shore access too, so in another hour when the stores open up and it warms up a bit, I'm headed ashore for my routine walk/grub run- a 5 mile walk ending in a visit to the grocery store. It's been a while since I was able to do this, and I'm happy for it.
With life getting in the way, I've had almost no time to browse social media the past month. And you know, I don't really miss it. This blog isn't what it once was. It reflects my own sense that barring a therapeutic upheaval, my career has gone stagnant. Fecesbook, news and other distractions that can't be consumed while looking at my phone and sitting on the toilet have been pushed back or ignored... and I've enjoyed the peace. Well, not peace, really. There hasn't been much of that. But the conflict, pessimism and nihilism that makes up the bulk of the tone of our broken-hearted culture has been great to avoid. It's really helped in keeping the temptation to indulge my rosy fucking disposition somewhat at bay.
I've been herded into a reset mode, I guess. I have been watching boat restoration and other creative videos online, and fantasizing about buying some very high-end tools that I won't be able to buy for another year or so.Without the time to devote to my hobbies or interests, there has been a sort of zen, of aligning my priorities with my available time, and social media... well, most media, has gone right out the window... amazingly enough, the world keeps on going anyhow.
BUT, I'm back at work, and I have the time to indulge my own curiosity and my own desire to tell people when they're wrong, and on trying, it lacks savor now. I think that's a good thing.
Screw it, I'm going ashore or a walk before my head starts to hurt.
With life getting in the way, I've had almost no time to browse social media the past month. And you know, I don't really miss it. This blog isn't what it once was. It reflects my own sense that barring a therapeutic upheaval, my career has gone stagnant. Fecesbook, news and other distractions that can't be consumed while looking at my phone and sitting on the toilet have been pushed back or ignored... and I've enjoyed the peace. Well, not peace, really. There hasn't been much of that. But the conflict, pessimism and nihilism that makes up the bulk of the tone of our broken-hearted culture has been great to avoid. It's really helped in keeping the temptation to indulge my rosy fucking disposition somewhat at bay.
I've been herded into a reset mode, I guess. I have been watching boat restoration and other creative videos online, and fantasizing about buying some very high-end tools that I won't be able to buy for another year or so.Without the time to devote to my hobbies or interests, there has been a sort of zen, of aligning my priorities with my available time, and social media... well, most media, has gone right out the window... amazingly enough, the world keeps on going anyhow.
BUT, I'm back at work, and I have the time to indulge my own curiosity and my own desire to tell people when they're wrong, and on trying, it lacks savor now. I think that's a good thing.
Screw it, I'm going ashore or a walk before my head starts to hurt.
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
setting all aright
Well, I'm back on board. Goddamn, what a challenging few weeks! It's been tough, not gonna lie, but everything appears to be moving in the right direction.
As unlikely as it is, for the first time in our 8 years as shipmates, both B and I had to have unscheduled time off at the same time. We've literally never spent more than 3 weeks apart since the day we met. Unfortunately, this resulted in HAWSEPIPER's Afloat Global HQ being manned by... not us, for a week. My relief is an experienced tankerman who works under my friend Big Chocolate, so he's rock solid. Nice guy, too. He's staying on another week with me, and I like what little I know about the guy. Great rep.
... the other guy? Well, I tried to be as polite as possible, but I might have referred to him as a 'fucking mongoloid' to my boss.
I work over a lot, filling in on other guy's turf. You try to work within their routine, not reorganize too much, and ensure that they come back to a workplace that is more or less the way they left it, if they left it in good shape.
The fill in guy who left today was clean, and a cleaner. That's wholly positive. He also reorganized my office filing system, paperwork management system, and absolutely fucked with our deck layout for mooring- shifting things around, breaking shit, throwing away things etc. etc... nothing too bad, I mean, it was a matter of 4 hours and I had everything back to where I want it, and the house itself is minty fresh inside, which is rare for a fill-in guy to do a bang-up job cleaning. But there's also a line to cross where you're just shitting on the carpet when it comes to messing with the system by which we do the actual work that we get paid to do.
So I had a bit of a mad on when I was getting things back to nicenice, and the fill-in guy was a big help. He hasn't seen the HQ being operated correctly, so I feel as though I ought to show him that I'm not Captain Shitshow of Turd Harbor. And I'm coming off a pretty intense time at home, so while there is still much I have to do by phone in terms of helping keep my wife on the path to recovery, I hopefully can enjoy some modestly-lower stress days later this week too.
As unlikely as it is, for the first time in our 8 years as shipmates, both B and I had to have unscheduled time off at the same time. We've literally never spent more than 3 weeks apart since the day we met. Unfortunately, this resulted in HAWSEPIPER's Afloat Global HQ being manned by... not us, for a week. My relief is an experienced tankerman who works under my friend Big Chocolate, so he's rock solid. Nice guy, too. He's staying on another week with me, and I like what little I know about the guy. Great rep.
... the other guy? Well, I tried to be as polite as possible, but I might have referred to him as a 'fucking mongoloid' to my boss.
I work over a lot, filling in on other guy's turf. You try to work within their routine, not reorganize too much, and ensure that they come back to a workplace that is more or less the way they left it, if they left it in good shape.
The fill in guy who left today was clean, and a cleaner. That's wholly positive. He also reorganized my office filing system, paperwork management system, and absolutely fucked with our deck layout for mooring- shifting things around, breaking shit, throwing away things etc. etc... nothing too bad, I mean, it was a matter of 4 hours and I had everything back to where I want it, and the house itself is minty fresh inside, which is rare for a fill-in guy to do a bang-up job cleaning. But there's also a line to cross where you're just shitting on the carpet when it comes to messing with the system by which we do the actual work that we get paid to do.
So I had a bit of a mad on when I was getting things back to nicenice, and the fill-in guy was a big help. He hasn't seen the HQ being operated correctly, so I feel as though I ought to show him that I'm not Captain Shitshow of Turd Harbor. And I'm coming off a pretty intense time at home, so while there is still much I have to do by phone in terms of helping keep my wife on the path to recovery, I hopefully can enjoy some modestly-lower stress days later this week too.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Tomorrow
Well, I'll be flying out tomorrow. Time to go back to work. Taking extra time off a month before Christmas was a serious pain in the wallet, but worth it, and I am BEAT. Sleeping 5-6 hours a day for 3 weeks after a month of the disruptive sleep that is normal on a workboat isn't a recipe for feeling good. Still, I anticipate being able to get some more rest and I hope to come home recharged and ready for an enjoyable holiday season.
Today is my last real chance to chip away at the domestic BS that we all do before going back to sea with a little added this and that.
Today is my last real chance to chip away at the domestic BS that we all do before going back to sea with a little added this and that.
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