The tiny ship was tossed |
Tugboats are small.
Well, not really. They just seem that way compared to some
of the ships that tugboats are always pictured next to.
In reality, tugboats are quite large.
For example, the boat I currently work on is essentially a
7-bedroom, 2-bathroom, condo with a full sized kitchen, laundry room, full
basement, and a balcony (wheelhouse) with stunning ocean views from 50 feet in
the air. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Most of the time it is (minus the days you
are out in stormy weather getting your brains beat out of your head).
We're gonna need a bigger boat |
So, my relief is going to a different boat.
Again.
Again.
In the year and a half since I transferred from the other crew, onto this crew, this is going to be my third different relief. It would
seem that no one wants to work with TPWSNBN. Who knew?
Because my new relief is also new to the company, he has to
get three different Captains to verify that he is capable of running his own
watch. Since he can’t run his own watch before being verified that he can run
his own watch, he gets to ride along with us. This makes him the magical 8th
guy on the boat that makes the boat seem that much smaller.
As mentioned before, it’s a 7-bedroom boat. Add one more guy
to a seven man crew and you become short one bedroom. Luckily (?), we have bunk
beds in two of the rooms. So if you ever want to revert back to your childhood
and are craving a chance to sleep in bunk beds again, maybe a job on a tug is
for you. Unfortunately, this also means that someone from the regular crew gets
displaced from their own room. This is so that the new guy can get up and lay
down whenever he has to so that he can show the Captain that he knows what he
is doing. In theory. My kids LOVE their bunk bed. My crew, not so much.
Seriously? A slide? |
Now there are 3 things you do on a tugboat.
Eat, sleep, and stand a watch.
We have determined that the sleeping situation is less than
optimal. What about eating?
Yeah, that too is screwed up.
The galley is only so big. Essentially, it is big enough for
you to get in, eat, and get out. Guys going on-watch want to be able to eat and
then get to work. Guys coming off-watch, want to be able to eat and then go to
bed. All it takes is that one extra guy
to mess up the balance of people coming and going to create a traffic jam
around meal time. It’s like that one car on a two lane road that is going just
fast enough so you can’t pass him, but just slow enough to back up everyone
behind him. It’s like that. But with food.
This leaves watch standing.
We all have our own job descriptions. The tankermen do their
tankerman thing. The wheelhouse guys do the steering the boat thing. And the engineer
makes sure the TV works.
Throw that one extra guy into the mix, who doesn’t really
have a job description, but is trying to do the job so he can have a job
description, but is really just getting in the way and disrupting the normal
work load, and you have the trifecta of a BIG boat seeming just way too small.
Seems about right |
Hopefully, next hitch it will all be back to normal.
Everyone will have their own room. The galley will be back to its normal flow
of traffic. And the wheelhouse won’t be as cramped with people tripping over
each other.
Then we can get back to the real issues concerning crew
change and the day to day operations of our floating condo.
Early indications lead me to believe that there will be no
lack of content for the blog.
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