Sunday 20 July 2008
18 July
Part three
After some more days spent waiting for the good weather to come back, we managed to hammer down the last few samples left in our scheduled and we finally sailed back to port, this time knowing that there would be now sailing back, knowing that we could finally leave this ship. Or maybe not. While anchored at port we received the awful news from BP ( the oil company and the client) that the next job scheduled for this ship was having few days of delay to get started, so they asked us, actually imposed us, to add another 22 stations to our scope of work and sail straight away to do the job. The mood onboard after the news has become terrible; most of the guys were already home with their families and had to come back, and everyone felt like a zombie again, trying to stumble through the shifts hoping to finish soon.
We started this last extra part of the job yesterday and we are working at the speed of light, which means that we could be done once for all by breakfast tomorrow. Finger crossed!
My initial plan was to take a couple of days after the job to go and visit a little village up in the Caucasian mountains, but unfortunately I won’t make it. My flight is booked for Monday and to be honest I am so exhausted that I would probably collapse somewhere on the way. Well, if I ever come back in this region…!
So, this is it, I hope whoever is reading this is fine and will see you soon, at some point!
After some more days spent waiting for the good weather to come back, we managed to hammer down the last few samples left in our scheduled and we finally sailed back to port, this time knowing that there would be now sailing back, knowing that we could finally leave this ship. Or maybe not. While anchored at port we received the awful news from BP ( the oil company and the client) that the next job scheduled for this ship was having few days of delay to get started, so they asked us, actually imposed us, to add another 22 stations to our scope of work and sail straight away to do the job. The mood onboard after the news has become terrible; most of the guys were already home with their families and had to come back, and everyone felt like a zombie again, trying to stumble through the shifts hoping to finish soon.
We started this last extra part of the job yesterday and we are working at the speed of light, which means that we could be done once for all by breakfast tomorrow. Finger crossed!
My initial plan was to take a couple of days after the job to go and visit a little village up in the Caucasian mountains, but unfortunately I won’t make it. My flight is booked for Monday and to be honest I am so exhausted that I would probably collapse somewhere on the way. Well, if I ever come back in this region…!
So, this is it, I hope whoever is reading this is fine and will see you soon, at some point!
6 July
Azerbaijan Diaries - Offshore -
Part two
I would start by apologizing about the delay taken to provide the second part of this brief little diary of board, but we had some busy days and the time off was spent mainly eating and sleeping. But here we are, already into the month of July and still seeing only a faded reflection of the finishing line. During the last few days of June, right when we were becoming optimistic about our speed of work, bad weather struck again and this time the vessel had to sail to the closest port for shelter. In a way the subconscious of many of us was hoping for a deserved rest and the stop at port provided the chance for some to get some sleep and for others to spend the night home with the family.
It is curious to see how a port call changes quickly the atmosphere on board. Some people leave for good and get replaced by new faces and some old faces change thanks to a professional moustache trim and haircut. Even if you haven’t put a foot on land you can benefit by the quick “pit-stop” by enjoying again some fresh fruit and little changes in the meals menu! Unfortunately we also had bad news at the end of the month, when one of the guys in my shift had to leave the ship because his brother was rushed to the hospital; we heard later the same night that he passed away. So Ilgar left when we were at port, and I told the rest of the guys that we would take it slow at the beginning but we would readjust the roles and manage nevertheless with one man short.
The daily life on board now continues with its necessary routine. In my case this has now included a session of Domino after dinner with some of the crew. I have only played two games so far and not really aware of the tricks in the game, but I have understood the basic rule: slamming your piece hard on the table when you play it will gain you the respect of the players. Don’t ask me why but that’s how it works.
The tiredness now is beginning to surface inside many of us and gives rise to occasional and sporadic episodes of frustration and bitterness. It is a question of powering through, rest whenever possible and try to get this thing done as soon as possible. I have found a spot on deck that is become my chill out when I am off after lunch; it’s basically the spare anchor which, with few meters of plastic tube coiled around and three cargo nets wrapped in the middle forms something you could find in the cool armchairs section in Ikea. Well at least that’s what it is now for me. I spend a little bit of time every day laying there, listening to music, watching the sky and thinking.
Part two
I would start by apologizing about the delay taken to provide the second part of this brief little diary of board, but we had some busy days and the time off was spent mainly eating and sleeping. But here we are, already into the month of July and still seeing only a faded reflection of the finishing line. During the last few days of June, right when we were becoming optimistic about our speed of work, bad weather struck again and this time the vessel had to sail to the closest port for shelter. In a way the subconscious of many of us was hoping for a deserved rest and the stop at port provided the chance for some to get some sleep and for others to spend the night home with the family.
It is curious to see how a port call changes quickly the atmosphere on board. Some people leave for good and get replaced by new faces and some old faces change thanks to a professional moustache trim and haircut. Even if you haven’t put a foot on land you can benefit by the quick “pit-stop” by enjoying again some fresh fruit and little changes in the meals menu! Unfortunately we also had bad news at the end of the month, when one of the guys in my shift had to leave the ship because his brother was rushed to the hospital; we heard later the same night that he passed away. So Ilgar left when we were at port, and I told the rest of the guys that we would take it slow at the beginning but we would readjust the roles and manage nevertheless with one man short.
The daily life on board now continues with its necessary routine. In my case this has now included a session of Domino after dinner with some of the crew. I have only played two games so far and not really aware of the tricks in the game, but I have understood the basic rule: slamming your piece hard on the table when you play it will gain you the respect of the players. Don’t ask me why but that’s how it works.
The tiredness now is beginning to surface inside many of us and gives rise to occasional and sporadic episodes of frustration and bitterness. It is a question of powering through, rest whenever possible and try to get this thing done as soon as possible. I have found a spot on deck that is become my chill out when I am off after lunch; it’s basically the spare anchor which, with few meters of plastic tube coiled around and three cargo nets wrapped in the middle forms something you could find in the cool armchairs section in Ikea. Well at least that’s what it is now for me. I spend a little bit of time every day laying there, listening to music, watching the sky and thinking.
Wednesday 2 July 2008
2 July
Azerbaijan Diaries – Offshore
We abandoned the relative comfort of land on Thursday the 19th when we left the quayside onboard the Svetlomor 2, a Russian supply boat now reconverted to suit offshore survey work. She is quite a big ship with a bright orange hull and big deck space, now filled by our containers and all the gear. I was surprised by the living arrangements onboard and pleased that my bed was solid, with clean sheets and no crawling neighbours to share it with. Down on the first floor we have the cantine where we share few moments with the rest of the crew over some giant sized meals and a cup of coffee. The cooks are actually giving us some pretty good food and a decent choice too. My friend “chief”, at least that’s what I call him after being addressed by him as “capo”, is on a mission to feed me to death throwing on a plate massive amounts of rice, meat and curry sauce. The meat is in fact the core of every meal in Azerbaijan and even offshore. The choice always includes beef, chicken, lamb and occasionally some kind of unidentified bird.
When working offshore, either on a platform or on a vessel you divide in two shifts of twelve hours each, with no days off whatsoever, apart from weather downtime. I ended up leading the night shift which has its pros and cons; you have to get used to live the vampire life for few weeks but at least you are not working under the merciless sun. So for me the usual “day” starts at 23.00 when I fall from the upper bed in the cabin and try to understand who I am and what’s going on. After putting my coverall, boots and hard hat I descent the stairs to the cantine where the rest of the zombies in my shift are gathering to get a double coffee and the occasional piece of cake. Since I am their shift leader I start going through what we will be doing and remind them all the safety issues involved. Then they all sign a document after which my ass is covered in case someone gets injured. Very important part! I have to say that I cant complain about the guys, they are a good laugh and work hard, although sometimes I feel a bit like the teacher on a school trip trying to gather everyone together all the time. Only two of them, Ilgar and Aghayev, speak some English and have been used from the beginning as translators. The other three are Valeh, an Azeri guy from the Ministry of Environment, Irada, a girl from the Marine Lab and Farhuk, a 62 year old character from the lab as well. He actually knows a couple of words in Italian so we are trying to make some reciprocal language lessons.
At about midnight we start our shift, taking over the work from the day shift guys. It all starts slow but at night the time seems to go faster, maybe because the only thing you see is the deck and everywhere around is dark, a part from when you are near one of the many oil platforms scattered around.
During the night your focus is somehow better and soon enough you turn towards what used to be just a big black canvas only to see a glimpse of red, a stroke of pink and some faded blue; the dawn is on it’s way. At 5.30am it’s still dark but everything on the horizon starts to get a contour, shapes gradually become tridimensional and the sea is not just a noise anymore. That’s the beauty of the night shift, the magic of a dawn. See, the romanticism stereotyped the sunset as the most suggestive periodical sky display, but if you think about it, what you are staring at is what you have seen for the all day disappearing in a yellow and red dressing. On the contrary, before the sun rises your eyes are filled with black; your brain only has vague images of your surroundings, more based on perception than sight. When the sun starts to peak over the horizon, this approximate picture in your brain is gradually replaced when the dim light reveals the truth of things. It’s like either opening or closing the lid of a box; it’s the surprise that counts.
-End of part one-
We abandoned the relative comfort of land on Thursday the 19th when we left the quayside onboard the Svetlomor 2, a Russian supply boat now reconverted to suit offshore survey work. She is quite a big ship with a bright orange hull and big deck space, now filled by our containers and all the gear. I was surprised by the living arrangements onboard and pleased that my bed was solid, with clean sheets and no crawling neighbours to share it with. Down on the first floor we have the cantine where we share few moments with the rest of the crew over some giant sized meals and a cup of coffee. The cooks are actually giving us some pretty good food and a decent choice too. My friend “chief”, at least that’s what I call him after being addressed by him as “capo”, is on a mission to feed me to death throwing on a plate massive amounts of rice, meat and curry sauce. The meat is in fact the core of every meal in Azerbaijan and even offshore. The choice always includes beef, chicken, lamb and occasionally some kind of unidentified bird.
When working offshore, either on a platform or on a vessel you divide in two shifts of twelve hours each, with no days off whatsoever, apart from weather downtime. I ended up leading the night shift which has its pros and cons; you have to get used to live the vampire life for few weeks but at least you are not working under the merciless sun. So for me the usual “day” starts at 23.00 when I fall from the upper bed in the cabin and try to understand who I am and what’s going on. After putting my coverall, boots and hard hat I descent the stairs to the cantine where the rest of the zombies in my shift are gathering to get a double coffee and the occasional piece of cake. Since I am their shift leader I start going through what we will be doing and remind them all the safety issues involved. Then they all sign a document after which my ass is covered in case someone gets injured. Very important part! I have to say that I cant complain about the guys, they are a good laugh and work hard, although sometimes I feel a bit like the teacher on a school trip trying to gather everyone together all the time. Only two of them, Ilgar and Aghayev, speak some English and have been used from the beginning as translators. The other three are Valeh, an Azeri guy from the Ministry of Environment, Irada, a girl from the Marine Lab and Farhuk, a 62 year old character from the lab as well. He actually knows a couple of words in Italian so we are trying to make some reciprocal language lessons.
At about midnight we start our shift, taking over the work from the day shift guys. It all starts slow but at night the time seems to go faster, maybe because the only thing you see is the deck and everywhere around is dark, a part from when you are near one of the many oil platforms scattered around.
During the night your focus is somehow better and soon enough you turn towards what used to be just a big black canvas only to see a glimpse of red, a stroke of pink and some faded blue; the dawn is on it’s way. At 5.30am it’s still dark but everything on the horizon starts to get a contour, shapes gradually become tridimensional and the sea is not just a noise anymore. That’s the beauty of the night shift, the magic of a dawn. See, the romanticism stereotyped the sunset as the most suggestive periodical sky display, but if you think about it, what you are staring at is what you have seen for the all day disappearing in a yellow and red dressing. On the contrary, before the sun rises your eyes are filled with black; your brain only has vague images of your surroundings, more based on perception than sight. When the sun starts to peak over the horizon, this approximate picture in your brain is gradually replaced when the dim light reveals the truth of things. It’s like either opening or closing the lid of a box; it’s the surprise that counts.
-End of part one-
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