Today was an eventful day.
It began as our days typically do, with a morning round of readings and
soundings. Returning from rounds, however, TJ
and I were greeted by something new: two meters of freshly twisted wire. It was time to go fishing. Our game?
Brass plumb bobs.
After contemplating hook configurations, TJ and I went to
face our oil tank. Several tries and
hook configurations later, I held my breath as TJ signaled a weight on his
line. When at last we saw the bronze
breach the surface, TJ and I felt an elation only known to the big-time gamer. Never have my hands moved as quickly as when
they fetched from my pocket a pair of pliers to secure our catch. Mothers and fathers, never fear. Pictures are coming…just as soon as TJ and I manage
an iconic fishing pose with a plumb bob.
At 1530, TJ and I entered the big leagues. Under our watchful eyes (and a few others),
the Maersk Peary took on 1810 metric
tons of MGO. Our level of enthusiasm was
high. Seven hours later, it had dwindled
a bit, primarily in the face of exhaustion and restlessness. As it turns out, bunkering is not particularly
stimulating. All too quickly, the novelty
of soundings at fifteen-minute intervals and simmering health concerns
regarding continued inhalation of fumes lost their impact.
In the interest of raising subdued spirits, supervisors
pinned TJ and I in a fierce competition.
Our opponent? A bright KP cadet
by the name of Kyle. Let’s call him Ryan
though. According to my mind, he is
apparently more of a Ryan. The
challenge? Fill two onboard tanks as
close to ninety percent capacity as possible.
Webb, I regretfully confess: we failed you. In spite of all our accuracy, Kyle, AKA Ryan,
won the day.
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