In The Middle of the North Sea Pt. 4

Today and yesterday little else happened to me, so I will now blog about four short stories about things that have happened to me, and what they were like.

Virgin Radio!

So, in the office where I have made my little desk, there is a radio that plays all the time, and it seems to not be able to be switched off. The station that it is tuned to is Virgin Radio, a station that I have never listened to, and did not even now still really existed. The problem, however, is not really the station that it is tuned to. Well, not quite. I think this rant is most directed at any radio station. Over the last five days I have heard Amy McDonald, The Hoosiers, Scouting for Girls and Valerie by Mark Ronson more times than I have heard my name being called out. They play, wihtout fail, every hour, in some sort of mad rotation to get the unwashed masses to think they are great and that they will then go out and buy them. It really annoys me. It also seems that for the hours that I am in the office, there is not a DJ in sight, instead some kind of Windows Media Player hooked up to antenna, that every 15 minutes reads out banner ads from the internet. So, today, I switched it off, and got a round of applause. It seems that no one (including the electrical guys) could figure out how to turn the thing off.

Sleep, becomes me.

Working for 12 hours is tough, but I can't complain really - everyone is doing it and has been doing it for longer than me. Also, I knew what I was letting my self in for when I said okay, but it has made me so appreciative of just a few hours kip. I sleep from 10pm to 6.30am, which is longer than I would (and did) whilst working on shore in the office. My body needs it though, as those hundreds of miles that I have walked up and down this metal monster is startling.

Highs and Lows

Up and down, around and in, the lengths I have had to go to find some valves, or to even find them not there, is astonishing. It is a true test of my patience. It is as if the designers of this thing in the first place threw a bunch of spaghetti down onto the ground and said "Yup, thats the way we wants thems pipes." and to be honest, it is a real ball ache. Today, I had to find T71. T71 is supposed to be big, so I thought it would be easy to find it, until I followed a line from a vessel to it, and it dived under the deck. I thought "I am sure I am on level 1" and walked outside, to find the raging North Sea below. Too right. This vessel was under where I was looking, and had to accessed from a hatch way so obscure I am certain they only built it after I had decided to look for the thing and went out side. Down a ladder, underneath the bulkhead, with the wind, waves, and overboard water pipes thrashing me in the face, I had to unfold my bits of A3 paper and try and write on them, finding where pipes go and all that. And, it gets worse. I had also to climb atop a vessel today, 50 ft or so from the deck and 200ft from the sea, while a ship is thrashed about akin to a bucking bronco in the swell. It was not swell.

And the forth one is this:
I have never appreciated a Twix before in my life.