More days on the water

Day 23

Unload went just fine, except for the fact that we had to do it in Cairns. So instead of a nice relaxing unload and an evening in Cooktown, we were on a tight-ass schedule getting all the cray off and steaming back out straight away. At least we got a few days off on the boat while we were moving around.

Today put a total hurtin’ on us. We were out at a site called “Fetish” (each boat has their own nicknames for all their dive sites) when it was time to pack it in and head home. Unfortunately, the ride home was 28k up-swell, meaning we were ramping and slamming the entire way against waves that heaved above the horizon all around us. It probably took us about an hour to make it. Sucked massiveness. On the bright side, these were the very same conditions that had me worried whether I could stick it out or not a couple weeks ago. Now it’s all routine.

Had a few scares yesterday all bunched together. First, Lenny took a spill at the back of the boat when the rear fenders he was moving over got bucked up several feet by a sudden swell. The shift sent him heels over head in a near backflip. Luckily, right behind him was a row of plastic coolers that broke his fall. Got the wind knocked the eff out of him and I could see a sky of stars in his eyes. He shook it off and quickly got back to work.

Additionally, both the captain and a diver passed out at different points during the night. Lenny was in the wheelhouse when the captain just fainted. We were all downstairs watching TV when he rushed in and was trying to find an oxygen tank. I didn’t hear much about how the other diver, Benny, went. They were both back in the water with no troubles today. Luckily no on was more than dazed.

Normal bumps, bruises and smashed fingers myself. My right hand is now blanketed in calluses. Hooray!

Day 25

Disaster struck the Shogun this morning (technically last night, but the fit hit the shan this morning). We noticed yesterday evening that the fresh water pump went out again (it’s done so several times already this trip) and alerted the captain. He decided that he’d sort it out in the morning. Unfortunately it wasn’t just the fresh water pump that died. A fuse had blown that supplied power to most of the ship’s electrical systems - one of which was the pumps for the live tanks. This left all the cray out of water all night in a big pile of steaming seafood. You can imagine first of all what this must have smelled like when some unlucky soul unexpectedly opened a tank and was hit with a wall of smell. What you may find difficult to picture is the couple hours which followed.

Pretty much all of the cray were dead or dying (about 800 kilos). We emptied out the tanks and tailed all those that hadn’t turned in a massacre of epic proportions. The Jodee boys even had to come over to help out. The entire back deck was full of cray at one point, with countless baskets waiting further forward to be dumped and sorted. It seemed like they would never end. By the time we were done a couple hours later, every surface of the stern was shellacked in blood and guts. Mix that with some elbow grease though and you’ve got yourself a clean boat! Still a rather strange way to being the day - “Wake up, cunts! All the cray are dead!”

To add insult to injury, today is my first day as boat boy. Because of some maritime laws and such whatnots and things, I’ll be manning the boat while everyone else is diving for at least the next few days up to a week. I’m the cook, cleaner, washer and Associate Executive in Charge of Stunt Coordination. The last bit is a total do-nothing gig.

This morning I did all the dishes, vacuumed, made several bags of ice, did some laundry, and scrubbed the bathrooms. Now I’m chilling in the lounge area watching a movie and waiting for dinner time, at which point I’ll have to botch my way through cooking some steaks while hopefully not poisoning anyone. This really ain’t my thing.

I learned how to splice rope several days ago. That’s when you make loops and ends on ropes by weaving them into themselves deftly.

I was also introduced to a new style of searching around reefs for cray wherein Greg grabs onto the hose coming off the boat and I drag him slowly around while he sticks his face in the water and gestures which direction to go. I haven’t quite figured out the most comfortable way of looking directly behind me whilst controlling the outboard.

Now that my hands have finally become used to constant punishment and are healing a little, they randomly broke out in these weird red spots that burn like crazy when I’m wearing gloves out on the water. That and I’ve got a decent case of “dinghy ass”, a condition which I’ll politely let you extrapolate yourself. Just be cool man. It’s a good thing I have this week on the main boat to hopefully heal up a bit more.

Greg had his PS2 sent up a week or so ago. GTA and racing games have been just about only games anyone’s played. If only it were an X-Box and Halo…

Now I’m off to do more things to forget to write about in this thing. We should be in internet range the entire time I’m affixed to the main boat. Bank!