Starting at the bottom

The first humid blast of air on the boarding ramp was refreshing after 22 hours of flying. In a jet lag induced haze I was shuttled from the airport past massive skyscrapers in down town Singapore to a bustling launch terminal. Even at midnight the climate at one degree north latitude was making me sweat whenever the air became still.

I crammed into a rickety wooden launch with my guitar and sea bag, which must have weighed twice that of the other crew’s gear that I was signing on with, and 15 minutes later was eyeing the smallest motor ship I had ever joined as an officer. The first thing I noticed about this cable repair vessel, besides being registered in an unknown town in the South Pacific, was the amount of gear on her, both forward and abaft the midships bridge.

Cranes, winches, spools of thick wire, two very large foam buoys and even an R.O.V. were scattered up and down her 139-meter length. When I made it to the top of the gangway the main deck looked like a long garage with a door at the after end. Dozens of black cables covered the deck all running up and out of three large cylindrical cable tanks that disappeared below the plating.

If it was change that I was looking for than I’ve come to the right place. Everything is different here…everything. For starters the ship is designed not to get from point A to point B but rather to arrive in between at point C which could be anywhere with a telecommunications cable underfoot. Once in position the ship holds station using a Dynamic Positioning system to very slowly and methodically inspect, retrieve and mend fiber optic cable. The only time we’re underway is to either get to a job, lay a new cable on the seabed or to arrive at our next port to standby for a future repair.

Another difference is the amount of time spent in port. Rather than being designed for the efficient loading, stowage and discharge of cargo this ship is configured to kill time while in port. Unless were loading cable for the next job (Which takes weeks) than we’re essentially stood down and the crew assumes their reduced duties with enthusiasm. There are two hoistable racks stowed in the garage area or ‘Cable Highway’ with ten bicycles apiece. There are card-keyed doors to the gangway and a revolving duty mate. The officers are only obligated to put in an 8-hour day while moored so there is ample time for work, rest and play.

The crew is massive. Rather than the 18 or 20 person crews I’m accustomed to there are between 60 and 80 on board during a job. The unlicensed on this vessel are all from the Philippines (It is a foreign flagged ship) and are reputed as some of the best seaman and karaoke singers around. There are a number of technicians to drive the Remote Operated Vehicle or make the actual repairs and splices in the cable. We have an electronic technician (A modern day radio operator), a doctor, a Boson and Boson’s mate, two extra second mates and a purser. The additional deck and engineering officers are necessary to double the watches when doing a job due to the orchestration, albeit usually a slow one, of getting the cable safely off the bottom and on board. The large unlicensed crew ensures ample hands to handle the cable and keep all of the equipment in good order.

The three things I’m most enthused about though, besides the selection of Filipino dishes at meals, are the massive gym, Internet access and cheap phone cards. The last being ironic because the first time I actually have the ability to make affordable calls home everyday there isn’t really anyone who cares to talk to me that often. That aside having a killer gym and the ability to Face Book is wicked decent.

The past week has been spent on the hook in a very crowded Malacca Strait. We received our work permits this morning and will depart tomorrow to traverse the 8 miles to our first repair sight. I’m pleased because my first cable repair will take place in only 30 meters of water. Rather than waiting hours and hours for each evolution to take place, as would be the case in water five kilometers deep, this repair should keep a much faster pace. The process is complex and it will be a completely new experience for me.

A not so new experience is sailing as third mate. To once again be responsible for checking fire extinguishers and cleaning life boats is not a bad thing, just unexpected. I’m a plebe when it comes to this new line of specialized work so I can accept my station. Hopefully the change will pay off.

Plane Ride

A certain level of Zen is necessary to endure a transpacific flight to
meet a ship on the other side of the world. My itenerary calls for one
eighteen hour flight, Chicago to Tokyo, followed by another seven
hours aloft to arrive in Singapore the day after tomorrow.

The last three years meeting my former vessel in such not so far flung
places as Beaumont, Baltimore and Charleston have spoiled me when it
comes to the commute. Compared to most jetters of today I probably
don't spend all that much time flying but I bet they usually have a
hotel waiting at the other end of the jetway wheras I will have a
workday.

I'm sincerely relieved to be on my way though. The last two weeks of
waiting for a plane ticket have been strenuous. I finnally found a
receptive company that could give me a full hitch at sea and a shot at
a new permanent home which, if the fit is right, I'll take. It just
required being put on 24 hour notice to fly out three times and then
having to stand down due to a scheduling error, a typhoon delay, and a
persnickety Captain not interested in hiring a green mate. 24 hours
ago I was under the impression that the job wouldn't happen for
another two weeks and now I'm fighting the jetstream in cattle class.

The last month has been a real challenge to endure for many of
reasons. I'm very thankful for the great support I have received from
family and friends, especially from my left coast cousin. Crashing at
my place for several weeks he not only put up win my incessant whining
and doubtful doldrums but also instructed me in the arts of surfing
and golfing and provided the best lecture in guitar theory I've ever
had.

The next several months should be interesting. The work will be
different from anything I've been exposed to before. Hopefully I'll be
able to keep you informed on what I'll be involved in. But first I've
got to get there.

If it isn't one thing...

I can't remember exactly when I convinced myself that life would start to get easier once I had put some money in the bank, bought a modest apartment, and started my climb up the paper ladder. I suppose I just assumed, given my predisposition to plan things way in advance, that
all would fall into place just as I had planned for.

If there is anything I've learned this year it's that the world has little regard for even the best of my intentions. Instead of letting the unexpected get me down any more than it all ready has I'll just re-cap this roller coaster of a summer.

It all started at the Seafarers Mission in Southampton. While checking email there I agreed to do
a short fill in job on one of the schooners I had worked on board after college. This was a ship I had wanted to sail on again but had been too busy the past three years working on merchant ships, taking upgrade courses and license exams, plus maintaining a long distance relationship, to fit in sail training.

So when the opportunity arose I excitedly signed onto the schooner even though I knew that thirty days of youth education would burn me out to the max. I had just come off my regular rotation on the ro-ro and contrary to good judgment still had the knack for cramming more sea time into my off time than could possibly be good for me.

Despite some heavy weather the trip to Bermuda and back went well. Just before the end of the passage, as we made landfall off one of my favorite places in the world, I received a phone call from my employer that a practically brand new ship was going to be re-flagged from the good folks in Norway later in the summer. After being passed up for a promotion a couple of times I was now first on the list for the Chief Mates spot.

Naturally I was elated. The last three years of company loyalty and the last five of being a faithful fraternal dues paying union brother, a four thousand dollar investment (Not including the dues), was about to pay off. Besides I had gotten complacently accustomed to the not so burdensome responsibilities of second officer and was in dire need of again sailing as Chief Mate (I had all ready sailed as a fill in Chief Mate for the company in early 2008).

I packed my sea bag, took a fast rescue boat course, attended a two day security conference and took my girlfriend out to dinner to celebrate. At the security conference my colleagues and I were told about the impressive measures the company was taking with the help of a few former Navy Seals to ensure our security in the Gulf of Aden. We even got to test fire the "Weapon systems" they would be employing leaving my right shoulder badly bruised.

A week later I found out second hand that the re-flag was being shelved indefinitely for mainly economic reasons. Of course by this time I had missed my permanent rotation on my usual ship (Though I was thankful for the extra time home) and was left scrambling for a job in the worst recession my generation has ever seen.

The company tried to assuage my suffering by putting me out as a temporary second mate on the oldest ship they had which was headed for India. I turned down the chance for two back to back 25 day sea passages and was glad I did when the ship never left the dock, again due to the economy.

My next step was calling the union dispatchers who told me that despite being registered for work for over two months I was still number 39 on the hiring list. Naturally I started toying with the idea of seeking unorganized labor mainly because my chance for upward progression in the union was stifled. The two sweetest retirement deals around had just been shut down by the pension plan trustees in order to save what was left of the the once healthy pension fund. This meant that every Captain, Chief engineer, Chief Mate and First from the ages of 45 to 65 who missed the big buyout or early retirement were now going to stay at sea until all five of their kids had graduated college and the lake house was paid off.

After sending dozens of resumes, cover letters and C.V.s only three companies replied all saying the same thing; their hiring needs had been fulfilled. Realizing that I might be a long way off from a paycheck I spent a week working on a day sailing schooner. Despite the repetitiveness of hauling sail four times a day for a boat load of bored cruise whip passengers to do a two mile loop in Casco Bay it felt great to be sail and working up the calluses. Getting a wad of cash for your twelve hour day, though it barely equaled minimum wage, was a good feeling too.

A few days later I finally got a bit of work through the union. The Maritime Administration had authorized a number of "Turbo breakouts". This is when ships in the Ready Reserve Fleet are activated on short notice to test the capability of the operating companies, unions and permanent skeleton crews to staff, start and sail these "Grey Hulls" off the dock in less than 72 hours. The vessel is then put through a series of sea trials to make sure they're ready to go for the next time. The ships, which spend years being laid up in places like Charleston, Baltimore and San Francisco, ensure a surge shipping capability for the government in times of conflict or crisis.

My ship, a late 70's model Norwegian ro-ro, was berthed in downtown San Francisco and had not been underway for two years. It was only a mile seaward of the SF buoy when we had to turn around due to breakdowns in engineering. This meant the sea trials would take twice as long as expected but the work hungry crew didn't mind that at all.

After a week of lashing down loose gear for sea and throwing out garbage bags filled with expired hospital equipment I paid off and spent two days roaming the bay area. I hiked the Golden Gate bridge after breaking up with my girlfriend of four years and found irony in all the crisis hot line phones along the way discouraging people from taking the long plunge.

I felt like I could use some advice being five years into a career where I've stagnated without a promotion, or a job, plus ending the longest and best relationship of my life (The dog, a wife and a house in the woods seems more like a fantasy now).

Naturally assuming I was just another bankrupted businessman one step from the edge of eternity they most likely wouldn't have told me what I really needed to hear, something my younger brother would tell me a few hours later; "Suck it up man!"