The morning maintenance session was underway as usual, but instead of a usually-petty-boring engine assignment, I was assigned to help take on stores for the cruise that I will be going on this summer. Today, it was bulk dry goods and non-perishables. It a mini-cargo operation; I've never seen the ship so busy.
The first hour was pretty brutal. I have never before carried so much mountain dew. Each load was stacked six cases high in the familiar fire wood fashion. Walking was the easy part, but I think I managed to drop (most) of the cases pretty roughly on the deck. I apologize in advance for those who like the stuff... You're probably going to get a face full of electric green as soon as crack one open.
Soon there after, some hand trucks were given out and the process was expedited even further. The trucks were fully loaded with even more soda and I've never been so sick of damn cans in my life. Eventually the soda ran out, only to replaced by Gatorade syrup and juice concentrate. After that came, pasta, mustard, ketchup, olives, more bulk goods.
Then came flour and honey mustard.
I wasn't on the weather deck at the time, but the main deck standing away from the cargo square like I had been told to do. I was busy loading my truck and thinking about something else to say to my old-OIC. Two contractors were walking down the passage way and were about to go under the cargo hatch, but an upperclassmen put her arm out to stop them. She was doing exactly what she was told to do, and stopped them right in their tracks. I heard one of them swear under his breath and turn around to go the long way to get to the stair well.
A moment later a bridle on the cargo net parted, spilling a pallet's worth of flour nearly fifteen feet through the cargo hatch onto the main deck. It sounded like a gunshot, and I could feel the shock wave through the steel plating. After a few moments, the flour settled and everyone remaind quiets.I think we collectively realized that the two contractors were a few step from being crushed beneath what at one time be pancakes, and simultaneously let out one big "holy f****** shit f***.
To make a long story short, the mates on the ship made sure everyone was okay, check for damage, assigned people to clean up the mess (which was actually kind of fun, have you even had flour up to your shins and cleaned mustard off a bulkhead?) and the operation continued. The cadet that stopped the contractors was given as close to a fist bump as the crew give, and an extra emphasis was placed on the importance of following procedure. A good thing came out of something that could have been very bad; ship rules save lives.
I think this is my first ship story, and I know there are more to come soon. As I prepare to cruise this summer, I decided to hold it upon myself to keep a journal over each of the ninety days. I have no idea what I will do with the work, but I promised myself I would do it.
Here's to a good weekend.
AF
The first hour was pretty brutal. I have never before carried so much mountain dew. Each load was stacked six cases high in the familiar fire wood fashion. Walking was the easy part, but I think I managed to drop (most) of the cases pretty roughly on the deck. I apologize in advance for those who like the stuff... You're probably going to get a face full of electric green as soon as crack one open.
Soon there after, some hand trucks were given out and the process was expedited even further. The trucks were fully loaded with even more soda and I've never been so sick of damn cans in my life. Eventually the soda ran out, only to replaced by Gatorade syrup and juice concentrate. After that came, pasta, mustard, ketchup, olives, more bulk goods.
Then came flour and honey mustard.
I wasn't on the weather deck at the time, but the main deck standing away from the cargo square like I had been told to do. I was busy loading my truck and thinking about something else to say to my old-OIC. Two contractors were walking down the passage way and were about to go under the cargo hatch, but an upperclassmen put her arm out to stop them. She was doing exactly what she was told to do, and stopped them right in their tracks. I heard one of them swear under his breath and turn around to go the long way to get to the stair well.
A moment later a bridle on the cargo net parted, spilling a pallet's worth of flour nearly fifteen feet through the cargo hatch onto the main deck. It sounded like a gunshot, and I could feel the shock wave through the steel plating. After a few moments, the flour settled and everyone remaind quiets.I think we collectively realized that the two contractors were a few step from being crushed beneath what at one time be pancakes, and simultaneously let out one big "holy f****** shit f***.
To make a long story short, the mates on the ship made sure everyone was okay, check for damage, assigned people to clean up the mess (which was actually kind of fun, have you even had flour up to your shins and cleaned mustard off a bulkhead?) and the operation continued. The cadet that stopped the contractors was given as close to a fist bump as the crew give, and an extra emphasis was placed on the importance of following procedure. A good thing came out of something that could have been very bad; ship rules save lives.
I think this is my first ship story, and I know there are more to come soon. As I prepare to cruise this summer, I decided to hold it upon myself to keep a journal over each of the ninety days. I have no idea what I will do with the work, but I promised myself I would do it.
Here's to a good weekend.
AF
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