Headed back to work as soon as my wife gets home from her job. FML.
Tab Clearing...
2 hours ago
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
home!
One week only, but I'm home and happy to be here. This being the next day after I returned, and my wife being full of awesome and having a pitcher of caiperinhas ready for me...
...today was a bit of a rough start.
" For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry god. Bloody Mary full of
vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me now and at the hour of
my death, which I hope is soon. Amen." - Sterling Archer
Well, that's about right. Great to be home, anyhow, especially now that I don't smell like a dirty still.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
stepping back
It's a hard thing, being uninvolved.
At work, I'm riding as a supernumerary, as extraneous as a third nipple out here, to be honest. My job has been to get HAWSEPIPER's new Global Floating HQ/sardine can up to standard, by which I mean making the thing able to do work safely and efficiently, and legally, too. In the meanwhile, I've been running around like a one-armed paperhanger, organizing, filing and sorting things both inside and out. While I've been doing that, my counterpart out here, and my tankerman, Cowboy D, have been focusing on the jobs at hand. I'm biting my lip trying not to periodically wade in and organize their work my way, which would go over like a fart in church, as I'm just here to sort files and look beautiful.
At home, my mom's surgery went well. With her advanced osteoporosis, I guess the surgeon told my brother that pinning her ankle together was like bolting two slabs of cottage cheese together, but she's feeling better and much more alert. I had some seriously elevated anxiety last night, feeling very cut off and all, as is my wont periodically when shit goes down at home and I'm out here. I need to step back there as well, as it's not like there's anything I could do, so I am biding my time and keeping busy as this tour winds down. 3 days to go.
At work, I'm riding as a supernumerary, as extraneous as a third nipple out here, to be honest. My job has been to get HAWSEPIPER's new Global Floating HQ/sardine can up to standard, by which I mean making the thing able to do work safely and efficiently, and legally, too. In the meanwhile, I've been running around like a one-armed paperhanger, organizing, filing and sorting things both inside and out. While I've been doing that, my counterpart out here, and my tankerman, Cowboy D, have been focusing on the jobs at hand. I'm biting my lip trying not to periodically wade in and organize their work my way, which would go over like a fart in church, as I'm just here to sort files and look beautiful.
At home, my mom's surgery went well. With her advanced osteoporosis, I guess the surgeon told my brother that pinning her ankle together was like bolting two slabs of cottage cheese together, but she's feeling better and much more alert. I had some seriously elevated anxiety last night, feeling very cut off and all, as is my wont periodically when shit goes down at home and I'm out here. I need to step back there as well, as it's not like there's anything I could do, so I am biding my time and keeping busy as this tour winds down. 3 days to go.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
they call me... uncle Jemima
Spent today in the generator room, digging for buried treasure, by which I mean buckets and boxes of crap and scrap and oily rags and discount versions of usable products.
Example 1: The no-name brand of 'penetrating oil.' I smelled it, and sprayed a little on the workbench. Diesel oil, mineral spirits and light oil. As opposed to WD-40 or PB Blaster, which is about $2 more a case, which is a 2 year supply.
Example 2: The TWO thermal probes I was told were in the gen house: A thermal probe is a digital thermometer that is hyper-accurate, superbly calibrated with reliable documentation, and sits on the end of a 50-foot length of little wire so you can throw it and drag it through a cargo tank or set it at a specific height in the tank to get an accurate reading. It is used to calculate cargo volumes and is super-important, since oil changes density with temperature, so it shrinks in the tank with time. Amazingly, no thermal probes, but instead, there were two mercury thermometers on strings. This is like asking for a camera and getting a piece of chalk and a smooth rock to draw on.
So I spent 10 or so quality hours up to my balls in 6 years worth of crap lovingly collected and thrown lustily in corners and under things, and I'm about 1/2 done in there.
My mom, meanwhile, is cooling her heels in the local suburban hospital back home with a leg that's broken in 4 different places, courtesy of passing out from dehydration because she lives on coffee. So I'm a little stressed over that, but there's comfort to be had in coming from a large family with plenty of siblings to care for her. Whatever she's on right now in the hospital is working fine- she's slurring her words comfortably. This has set the count down clock for me, though; I'm home in 6 more nights.
Example 1: The no-name brand of 'penetrating oil.' I smelled it, and sprayed a little on the workbench. Diesel oil, mineral spirits and light oil. As opposed to WD-40 or PB Blaster, which is about $2 more a case, which is a 2 year supply.
Example 2: The TWO thermal probes I was told were in the gen house: A thermal probe is a digital thermometer that is hyper-accurate, superbly calibrated with reliable documentation, and sits on the end of a 50-foot length of little wire so you can throw it and drag it through a cargo tank or set it at a specific height in the tank to get an accurate reading. It is used to calculate cargo volumes and is super-important, since oil changes density with temperature, so it shrinks in the tank with time. Amazingly, no thermal probes, but instead, there were two mercury thermometers on strings. This is like asking for a camera and getting a piece of chalk and a smooth rock to draw on.
So I spent 10 or so quality hours up to my balls in 6 years worth of crap lovingly collected and thrown lustily in corners and under things, and I'm about 1/2 done in there.
My mom, meanwhile, is cooling her heels in the local suburban hospital back home with a leg that's broken in 4 different places, courtesy of passing out from dehydration because she lives on coffee. So I'm a little stressed over that, but there's comfort to be had in coming from a large family with plenty of siblings to care for her. Whatever she's on right now in the hospital is working fine- she's slurring her words comfortably. This has set the count down clock for me, though; I'm home in 6 more nights.
Would you buy Uncle Jemima's maple syrup? No. No you wouldn't. Also, why would a large black kitchen wench be used as the face of maple syrup which comes from New England?
Monday, July 16, 2012
While I was happily reposting photos of Brazilian lovelies in my last post just a few minutes ago, I received notification that a ship I worked with just a few months ago suffered a massive casualty. The "MSC Flamina" halfway between the US and Europe, suffered an explosion while the crew was fighting a fire that broke out in one of the cargo holds. Two confirmed dead, three injured, and 23 rescued. The ship is adrift.
better days.
5-minute vacation to Brazil
Still too busy to do much beyond gulp down a meal and turn out on deck to work, then wash, rinse and repeat, so here' something nice to look at- and for me, to remind me that staying an extra week on board (starting tomorrow pm) pays for, among other things, my next vacation to Brazil.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
