Stir Crazy

We have been sitting at anchor for 5 days waiting on a berth to become available. You know what you do while sitting at anchor for 5 days waiting for a berth to become available? You go stir crazy. And not stir crazy in the sense of "funny, ha-ha" kind of Stir Crazy, starring Richard Pryor.
The weird kind.

You end up with a lot of time to think. Reflect on life. Count your blessings. Ponder the vastness of the universe. Of course, that would be what normal people would do.
Me? Not so much.
 
I contemplate the financing options of a Russian T-55 main battle tank.
I dream of the items that will go onto the menu of my "Bacon Restaurant".
I think to myself, "Just how close to an active volcano can a person get before bursting into flames?"
It's not good.


Basically, I'm just trying to keep my mind off the fact that even though we have been sitting at anchor for 5 days waiting on a berth to become available, I know crew change is going to get screwed up.

That is, of course, the impetus of this blog after-all.


So tonight, my focus happened to drift towards beer. Now I'm not a huge beer drinker. In fact, there are a few bottles of Samuel Adams Octoberfest still in my fridge. From last year.

However, the synapses in my brain just happened to electronically fire off and send my imagination wandering in the direction of beer.
Specifically, a new micro-brew that I think someone should come up with. (I have neither the time, nor the talent to start my own micro-brew.)

It shall be of the Ale type.

Something in an Irish red type of blend.

And it should be called.....

wait for it......

Soulless Ginger Ale!

I know!!! Genius, right?!

The logo may need some more work

 
See what happens when you sit at anchor for 5 days waiting on a berth?

In other news, the Powerball Jackpot is going to be +$425 million on Wednesday. If I hit the jackpot we can all have tanks, open up bacon restaurants, and start our own micro-brews that we want to. I just need someone to hook me up with the winning ticket. Not too many 7-11's out here. I'll split it with you.

Happy ...Day!

Tugboat food does NOT look like this

Happy Thanksgiving!

If you are a mariner, and at work, Happy Thursday!

Or is it Monday?

The problem with working out to sea is that you sometimes lose track of the days. A typical 9 to 5er’s schedule goes from Monday to Friday, with the two all glorious days of the weekend remaining in order to cut loose a little.

A mariner’s schedule goes- Monday, Monday, Monday, Monday, Monday…etc. for two weeks straight (or however long a hitch they happen to be working). It then proceeds to go… Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday…etc. for however long they have off. There are no weekends, weekdays, Holidays, whatever. You are on. Or you are off. Simple.

Except it’s not.  

The rest of the world is still slave to the calendar.

This summer, I was on my time off, and my wife and I decided to meet up with some friends to have lunch. With the kids in tow, we meet up at the local burger joint fully expecting a similar family unit to meet us there. Except, they were missing one member of their party.

“Where is Jon?”

“He’s working.”

“Why is he working today?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Crap. 

Which is funny, if it were just a one-time occurrence. 

Another time this summer, my wife and I were out grocery shopping. We both were surprised that the construction workers were working on a Sunday building the new development across from the store.

“They must really be under the gun to finish that project up soon if they are all working on the weekend.”

Or it was a Thursday. We weren’t even close. 

At least it’s a little better when the kids are in school. At least they have to conform to the M to F / 9 to 5er’s schedule. But once summer vacation happens, it’s a free-for-all. Every day is a Saturday. Or a holiday. As shown, it’s pretty easy to lose track. 

So a Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Or a Happy Monday, as the case may be.

The Internet is a Dangerous Place

I’m not talking about the Craigslist Killer or being infected with a computer virus. It also has nothing to do with stolen credit cards or identity theft.  I’m talking about a bigger, more serious problem…internet shopping. Buying stuff on the internet is way too easy.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE shopping on the internet. It is a rare moment when I have to go to the store to buy something I need. And the UPS guy is very familiar with our address in the weeks preceding Christmas time. The big problem is that you can buy ANYTHING on the internet.

Case in point… I want a tank. Not a water tank, compressed-air tank, or an oil tank. I want a military surplus main battle tank. Who doesn’t?

Freeze, gopher!

It’s a bit of an obsession. On par with my bacon obsession. 

I want to buy 100+ acres of land and drive my main battle tank around the yard. Park it in the driveway. Keep the riff-raff away. That kind of thing.

The problem is, the internet. Of course, they have main battle tanks for sale. 

Need a quote for delivery for a German tank from Dusselberg? Yeah, they can do that.

How about a Russian T-55? Sure. It's located in California.

You got a World War II U.S. surplus Sherman tank? You betcha.  Head on up to Massachusetts, just outside of Boston, to take a look at one. Or two.

It’s too damn easy. 

Just last week, I decided it would be a good idea to look on the internet to see how much a main battle would actually cost. It wasn’t a good idea.

I found a surplus Russian T-55 main battle tank for sale for $85K.

$85,000!!! That’s totally reasonable!

I’ll sell my car. Who needs a car anymore with a tank in the garage? However, I may have to skip going through the drive through at McDonalds. Then again, maybe not. Who is going to turn away a tank? 

“Sorry, sir. You can’t bring a tank through the drive through.”

“Colin (my kid and self-appointed gunner/tank commander), load an armor piercing round. Aim for the fry-o-lator.”

“On second thought. Thank you for your order, sir.  Please drive through.”

The only real issue I might have with buying a main battle tank is trying to convince the bank that I need financing for it. Can you imagine the phone conversation for that?

“First Goliath National Bank (not a real bank). How can I help you today?”

“I’d like $85K in order to buy a tank. Can you help me with that?”

<Click>

Thankfully, my friends are just as bad as I am.

My friend Mark suggested, “Just show up with the tank at their front door and make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

With friends like that, who needs enemies?

He may just get the first ride.

Now where did I put my credit card?

Hurricane Sandy

As predicted, crew change got screwed up. 

We got off a day late. Which is not bad considering the effect “Superstorm Sandy” had on the Northeast (I’m not really sure when or why they decided to change the name from “Hurricane” Sandy). For the most part, everyone on our crew and all of our reliefs, escaped relatively unscathed. 

Things for our crew could have been a lot worse.  Three weeks ago, when we got on the boat, no one ever would have thought to themselves, “Hey, I better leave my keys with my car just on the off chance that the worst storm to hit the Northeast in recorded history happens to impact the area while we are 1800 miles away working in the Gulf so that someone can move my car so that it doesn’t get destroyed.” If you had said that to yourself, you may want to talk to a psychologist. Either way, that is exactly what happened. 

Fortunately, the two guys on our crew who did park their cars in our yard, actually did leave their keys with their cars. A few frantic phone calls to and from the other tug crews in NY and their cars were spared from the massive coastal flooding. A local Home Depot parking lot, just high enough above sea level and just far enough away from the high water, proved to make the difference between driving home crew change day, and calling their insurance company to file a claim.

Not everyone in our company was so lucky.

A certain co-worker posted on social media, “Sea water should not be in the cup holders of your truck but its in mine:-( “

Not a good day.

As bad as that is, another one of my co-workers did not fare nearly as well. One of the nicest Captains in our company lives on the New Jersey coastline. Right on the New Jersey coastline. His house did not fare well at all. The only thing I have heard so far is that he has not returned back to work because his house is flooded out. Chances are very good that the damage is so bad that his house may have to be razed and built again from the ground up. 

In addition to that, our home office is located in Staten Island, NY. They did not escape unscathed either. Reports are coming in slowly, but anytime your office is located less than 100 feet from NY harbor and you get record high storm surge, chances are it’s not going to be dry inside come the next day. It wasn’t.

It’s going to be a long time before things in the Northeast get back to normal. Our thoughts go out to all of those people who were affected by Sandy. 

Mother Nature is a bitch.

It may not have made the “Top Ten Nine Rules ofTugboating” but it is a well-known saying in the maritime industry:  Mother Nature will win. Every time.

Pre-Emptive Strike

It is only Thursday and I'm already psyching myself up for crew change on next Tuesday. However, if we all refer to the Rules of Tugboating, our eyes will immediately be drawn to Rule #4- Crew change WILL get screwed up. No exceptions.

As a prudent mariner we always keep our eyes on the weather forecast. It's usually wrong, but at least we knew it was going to be wrong.
Currently, Hurricane Sandy is spinning over the islands of the Bahamas. It is forecast to go up the U.S. East Coast before taking a turn to the west and head for Virginia/Delmarva/Greater New York/New Jersey/New England/Canadian Maritimes area. (Did we leave anybody out?)
As of now we are working in the Gulf of Mexico. So usually we would care less what the forecast for the North Atlantic would be. Except our reliefs live in the Northeast. So when Hurricane Sandy makes a bee-line for our home office there will be no joy come crew change day.

Granted, it's 5 days away and you should have plenty of time to prepare and get out of the area so you can actually make it to the boat on time so we can go home. If past performance is any indication of future results, it's not looking good.
In fact, the betting line in Las Vegas has the chance of crew change being screwed up at 100%.

So it's looking like our extended 3 week hitch will be extended even more. The kids aren't going to be happy. I was suppose to be Darth Vader for Halloween. Looks like my Halloween fill-in may have to take over for me again. As if working Thanksgiving and Christmas this year wasn't going to be bad enough.
I may need to work on my Darth Vader "Force Choke/Death Grip/thingy".

You don't know the power of the dark side!

New Toy

"Tis better to give than receive"
Wrong!
I like love getting new stuff.
And this week on the boat our prayers were answered in the form of a new ARPA radar. w00t!
(Automatic Radar Plotting Aid, for those of you not familiar with maritime acronym speak)

Well that just about sums it up

It's pretty nice.

Now I just have to find an ARPA radar class to take during my time off so I can be fully compliant with the ever growing laundry list of regulations that has been implemented by the USCG (United States Coast Guard. Aren't acronyms fun?) in recent years.

In addition to that, I just sent in my application to the USCG in order to take a test so I can upgrade my current license.
So between schooling and tests and dealing with the NMC (National Maritime Center. Acronyms everywhere!) It should be a fun couple of months.

I may just go home and shoot myself in the foot. That might be a least painful option I have at this point.

Be sure to watch this space. This should all go about as smooth as a Corpus Christi crew change.

Off work is hard work

It has been a whole month since I last posted. I realize this has been quite upsetting to some of you that follow this blog religiously. But I have been on my time off. A whole 3 weeks straight of glorious time off. During which I was so busy doing nothing that I couldn't bother to post anything on this here blog thingy.
Actually that isn't true at all. We mariners like to embellish the truth every now and then. They aren't called "sea stories" for nothing.

I was actually quite busy during my time off. First of all, my wife decided it would be a good idea to enter The Great Chili Cook-Off. The chili was Great (as you could probably surmise from the event name). The weather, however, wasn't. A full summary of The Great Chili Rain-Out can be found HERE. It's a good read. You'll laugh, cry, want to eat chili, etc.
*** If you happen to be in the area, the chili cook off has been rescheduled for this Saturday, October 13th.

But what kept me really busy this time home was my hobby(?).
I like to make t-shirts. Print t-shirts actually. I'm not one to go out and shear a sheep, spin the wool into yarn, and then knit a t-shirt. At least not yet.
I screen print t-shirts as a hobby. Sometimes my wife likes to tell people I screen print t-shirts as a hobby. Which then leads to, "Can he make me a shirt that says...."
It's fun. Most of the time. Sometimes my hobby takes on a life of its own. This time home happened to be one of those moments.

Last year, I designed and printed up some t-shirts for my son's second grade class. It didn't go as smooth as I would have hoped. There was a lot of indecision. Color choices were a major sticking point. Shirt numbers were all wrong. I was literally printing shirts right up until the time I had to go back to work. As a hobby, it was pretty stressful.
This year, the second grade teachers once again asked if I would be willing to print them some shirts. To be honest, I was kind of flattered that they wanted me to do the shirts again. For one, my son is now in third grade. And secondly, I was thinking I must have done something right last year for them to ask me again. But I was quite hesitant to do the shirts again due to the issues of last year. I've finally gotten my blood pressure down and I didn't feel the need to raise it again.
*** This is the part where I praise the second grade teachers for being so helpful and organized this year. It was truly a pleasure to print the shirts for them.
So I set up a meeting to discuss the particulars of the project with them. And after a very quick discussion concerning shirt colors, sizes, and quantities I was off and running once again. Around 140 (or so) shirts for the second grade. No problem.
Did I mention my wife likes to tell people about my hobby?
After my meeting with the second grade teachers, I went to have lunch with my wife at the preschool where she teaches. Somehow they had found out that I printed t-shirts. And they asked if would I be willing to come up with a design and print some shirts for them as well. So in less than an hour, I had gone from, not really sure I wanted to print any shirts at all, to having to order over 250 shirts for the two different schools. The UPS guy was going to be pissed.

This is what a stack of 140 kids t-shirts looks like.

Sidebar: Our UPS guy is a magician. Or the fastest guy on the planet.
I can be sitting at our computer desk and watch the UPS guy approach the front door bringing his parcels of wonderful goodness. He puts the packages down on the stoop and rings the doorbell. In the time it takes for me to go the 10 feet from the computer desk to the front door, the UPS guy has traversed the 75 feet down the driveway, is back in his truck, and is already driving away. It's magic! Or he is Usain Bolt's brother. Either way, he's quick. Crazy quick. And he's crazy strong too. I've ordered multiple cases of ammunition and he hand carries them all the way up the driveway to the front door. That stuff is HEAVY. I'm almost tempted to just order random, heavy, awkward things for him to deliver just so I can see "What Brown can do for me". 

Okay, sorry, back to the printing of the shirts...

My hobby is a little one man operation. No fancy equipment. No machines. Nothing. Just me, an exacto knife, some silk screens, and a lot of ink. One shirt at a time. And I let the ink air dry.

Not a single place to sit

So the shirts took over the house. They were everywhere. On the couch. On the dinner table. In the bedroom. All over the living room. Not a seat or flat surface was to be found anywhere. Which proved to be an issue when you have two small children. One t-shirt was lost when a child "leaped before she looked" onto the couch where a still wet shirt was drying. Occupational hazard, I guess.

All things considered, it went really smoothly. I got all of the shirts printed for both schools and I was pretty happy with the results. I even had time to do a design or two for myself.
It's a pretty cool hobby. Especially when I get a chance to see 250 different kids wandering around in school wearing a t-shirt that I printed. Who knows, maybe next year there will be 250 more.

A pin wheel of colors

Blue on Tangerine. Order #2

All printed up and ready to go

Here are some pictures of the shirts I have done. Maybe I could sell them if I could figure out how to set up a store or something like that. Until then, if you see a shirt that you like and can wait a few weeks for me to get it made and delivered send me an e-mail. Maybe I'll become the next internet millionaire. Or maybe not. My kids still need some place to sit.

Front

Back

For the kids

You can write in who you want to be with a washable marker.

It's a lot funnier if you know what the code flags are.

That's just good advice