On Wednesday I was informed that I would be leaving the rig once our tools were out of the hole. After that the rig was planning on running casing and they needed to get all non-essential personnel off the rig to make room. It's a pretty small rig, so bed space is a high commodity.
But first we had to unload our nuclear source, download the data from our tools, and process and send the logs to town. Wary of how late at night that would be, I went to take a nap with a promise from our lead hand that he would wake me up when they were ready to unload the source.
A short forty-five minutes later I was awakened from my semi-somnolent state by a knocking on my door. I opened it not to find my lead hand instructing me to don my coveralls and grab my dosimeter, but instead a pair of casing workers with bags in hand and looking to move into my still-warm bed.
"But you're supposed to be on the boat tonight!" was their response to my claim that I wasn't leaving until the next morning. "I can't go anywhere until my source is out of my tool!" It's a complicated and dangerous enough process unloading the source as it is -- it would be impossible with only one person.
What next ensued was an unpleasant confrontation in the Company Man's office where the Company Man claimed he told us to have three people ready for the evening boat, and our directional driller claiming he had already assured the Company Man we couldn't send anyone in until the tools were out of the hole.
We made a compromise to send the second directional driller and our third MWD hand in on the boat departing in fifteen minutes, and the rest of us would stay until the tools were out and ready to ship back to base. Unfortunately for them, both of those guys were sound asleep and had to be woken rather abruptly to pack and be ready to leave in record time.
As I was preparing to go back to bed to catch whatever sleep I could in anticipation of my red-eye work, another knock sounded on my door. It was the same casing hands saying they had been instructed to move into my room.
"You're not on the boat yet?"
No.
Seeing as how it's the only room on this rig that is appropriate for female use, I spent the next thirty minutes running all over the rig's offices again trying to track down the people who could fix the error.
In the end I got about thirty minutes of sleep before I was awoken by the third interruption of the night which was at last the wake-up call I had been expecting. Unloading the source went remarkably smoothly, as well as the processing and uploading of the data, and I was up until one o'clock in the morning checking off various to-do items that I was too conscientious to just leave until the morning (never have I learned the risks of procrastination better than on this job).
It turned out that the Company Man threw another fit that evening when he found out that (as per our agreement) we had only sent in two people on the boat. He ranted and raved and claimed we had agreed to send three, but no, that would have been impossible. I was glad to have missed that discussion.
After a refreshing four hours of sleep I relieved my lead hand so he could rest up, and sat myself down in our unit in front of my laptop for a relaxing few hours since I had already finished most of the work.
I had just turned in the shipping paperwork for our tools, and was expecting to be on a helicopter in a few hours when I got a call from the Company Man saying that he wanted to send all of us in as soon as possible. All of the crew, all of our tools. I woke up all of the sleeping guys, instructing them to pack and be ready to leave, and re-did all of the shipping paperwork.
Two hours later, the weather is looking pretty iffy and we're not sure if the helicopters will be able to fly. I get a call from my manager instructing us to leave one set of tools on the rig (and a nuclear source! Is it allowed to stay on the rig unsupervised? Apparently so.) I redo the shipping paperwork again.
By early afternoon a thick, pea-soup fog has set in and its clear the helicopters won't be flying. Our tools are all ready to go, and other than a few last-minute requests for additional data from town I have little to do but sit and stew. When I went to bed I was given the possibility of leaving on a boat that evening and was told I would be woken up in that event. Morning came with no wake-up call, and little elucidation into the future's plans for me. The fog was gone, but a check of the three posted helicopter manifests failed to reveal my name or the names of my crew members. I found out that I might still be sent in on the boat, which hadn't even left port yet, or I might be on a fourth and yet unscheduled helicopter.
With all these delays in leaving, our time to be home during the casing break is contracting tighter and tighter. As it is right now we are expected to return on Monday morning, which means we'll have to be at the hotel near the heliport Sunday night. An unexpected call from my manager yesterday, however, instructed me that I would not be coming back on Monday. There is another engineer who has been waiting in town for too long and needs some rig days. Now normally this would be considered "stealing" my spot, but she'll only be here for a week and I don't have the energy to care. A week on land looks like a nice little piece of heaven to me. And I could really go for a cold beer tonight.
As I wrote this post, I was confirmed on the manifest of the fourth flight this afternoon. The fog has cleared, and the first flight has already come and gone. Home, I'll be there soon.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Hit the ground running.... a MARATHON
I was woken up from a lovely nap on Saturday (since I was still partially stuck on night shift from a WHOLE WEEK before) by a phone call from the rig. Guess what! The helicopter that everyone said wasn't going to be scheduled -- because a). it's the weekend and b). the weather is pretty bad for helicopter flights -- was slated for a last-minute departure early Sunday morning. I had three hours to pack, clean my house, and prepare myself and the trappings of my life for my next exodus to the rig.
A 4-hr car ride later, I was dropped off at the "Lighthouse Lodge" in Venice, LA <-- for all those interested in maps, check out that link. Venice, LA is in such a spotty area it doesn't even look like it should EXIST, let alone be habitable. In an unexpected yet unsurprising note, Venice is a world-class fishing destination and the Lighthouse Lodge is marketed as a premier spot to cater to such a tourist crowd. The front desk clerks were slightly befuddled by my pajama-clad, incredibly mussed female self checking in at 11:00pm and scheduling a check-out time for 5:30am the next day. They clearly get plenty of oilfield traffic, and must have assumed that I was part of that set, but under no circumstances do I fall into the "stereotype" of oilfield personnel. No matter how greasy and unkempt, I remain an anomaly.
The early morning helicopter ride was quite hairy, and our first attempt was actually aborted when the pilot did not feel safe continuing after the first twenty minutes out to sea. A few hours in a utilitarian waiting room and one more helicopter ride later, I eventually arrived at the rig just in time for lunch. I wolfed down a quick and juicy hamburger, and headed up to our unit to see what was going on.
They were finishing the data processing from the previous run, and I helped complete it and send out the necessary logs to the client. Once that was complete, there was nothing left to do but wait for all of our tools bobbing up and down on the boat a few hundred yards away. One surprisingly deep and thorough nap later, I was back in my hard hat just as the tools were loaded onto our deck. From there it was a frenzy of preparation for the next foreseeable future.
We had to program the tools (which proved problematic when our cable to plug into the tools shorted), we had to measure them, load two 30-pound lithium battery assemblies into them, type up a few dozen forms of data, etc, etc, etc, and all within a window of roughly 7 hours. There was very little breathing room that night. My cell manager, the night hand and I all worked unceasingly until four a.m. this morning when some equipment on the rig floor malfunctioned (unrelated to us, thank heavens!) and we got a few hours to catch our respective breaths while they repaired it.
Now we are tripping in the hole, which means that they're lowering the drilling assembly in piece by piece; screwing the 90-ft long stands of drill-pipe together one at a time. And lucky for me they seem to be taking their sweet time about it. I have been left on my own to keep this popsicle stand running, as both of my coworkers have gone to bed from utter exhaustion. We're all roughly equally sleep deprived, but in a twisted sort of logic it seemed to make sense to have me be the one unlucky soul who gets to sleep last. So until our tools reach a more interesting depth, I can nap in my office chair with impunity. We've got over a mile to go -- and I have improvised a nice little footrest for my purposes.
Good night.
A 4-hr car ride later, I was dropped off at the "Lighthouse Lodge" in Venice, LA <-- for all those interested in maps, check out that link. Venice, LA is in such a spotty area it doesn't even look like it should EXIST, let alone be habitable. In an unexpected yet unsurprising note, Venice is a world-class fishing destination and the Lighthouse Lodge is marketed as a premier spot to cater to such a tourist crowd. The front desk clerks were slightly befuddled by my pajama-clad, incredibly mussed female self checking in at 11:00pm and scheduling a check-out time for 5:30am the next day. They clearly get plenty of oilfield traffic, and must have assumed that I was part of that set, but under no circumstances do I fall into the "stereotype" of oilfield personnel. No matter how greasy and unkempt, I remain an anomaly.
The early morning helicopter ride was quite hairy, and our first attempt was actually aborted when the pilot did not feel safe continuing after the first twenty minutes out to sea. A few hours in a utilitarian waiting room and one more helicopter ride later, I eventually arrived at the rig just in time for lunch. I wolfed down a quick and juicy hamburger, and headed up to our unit to see what was going on.
They were finishing the data processing from the previous run, and I helped complete it and send out the necessary logs to the client. Once that was complete, there was nothing left to do but wait for all of our tools bobbing up and down on the boat a few hundred yards away. One surprisingly deep and thorough nap later, I was back in my hard hat just as the tools were loaded onto our deck. From there it was a frenzy of preparation for the next foreseeable future.
We had to program the tools (which proved problematic when our cable to plug into the tools shorted), we had to measure them, load two 30-pound lithium battery assemblies into them, type up a few dozen forms of data, etc, etc, etc, and all within a window of roughly 7 hours. There was very little breathing room that night. My cell manager, the night hand and I all worked unceasingly until four a.m. this morning when some equipment on the rig floor malfunctioned (unrelated to us, thank heavens!) and we got a few hours to catch our respective breaths while they repaired it.
Now we are tripping in the hole, which means that they're lowering the drilling assembly in piece by piece; screwing the 90-ft long stands of drill-pipe together one at a time. And lucky for me they seem to be taking their sweet time about it. I have been left on my own to keep this popsicle stand running, as both of my coworkers have gone to bed from utter exhaustion. We're all roughly equally sleep deprived, but in a twisted sort of logic it seemed to make sense to have me be the one unlucky soul who gets to sleep last. So until our tools reach a more interesting depth, I can nap in my office chair with impunity. We've got over a mile to go -- and I have improvised a nice little footrest for my purposes.
Good night.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
It's that time again!
Time for that 2a.m. post because I can't sleep like a normal person!
I arrived home on Friday evening, and even after a 4 hour nap in the car ride back I was still able to sleep a good 5 hours straight in my own bed on Friday night... since I had stayed up for 23 hours straight before leaving the rig.
I had a pretty easy last few days on the job because they had some problems downhole and we didn't go back to drilling until late last night -- when I was already home. But apparently my luck gave out when I reached dry land.
Today (or yesterday, rather since it was Saturday), I tried all the "right things" to get myself switched over to a normal schedule. I knew it was going to be tough, but I thought it would be fun -- and helpful -- if I did a 19 mile hike around a nearby lake. Exercise and sunlight are two of the highest recommended aids to resetting your circadian rythym, and I received a surfeit of both. Now I'm sunburned (just a little) and sore (all over) ... and I just woke up as if I'd planned on only taking a 3 hr nap. Sigh.
Now, I have a couple of great photos from my hike which I would LOVE to post, but I seem to have misplaced my camera cord sometime between Thanksgiving and now. Mom, Dad, is there by any chance a small black cord that mysteriously appeared at either of your houses? Yeah, it's really distinctive, I know.
I guess it's time to whip out a movie and do some crocheting. Enjoy your restfulness, all you slumbering readers, and be grateful for it.
P.s. Don't believe this website's timestamp, which they get from West Coast time -- just add 2 hrs and you'll have my ungodly hour.
I arrived home on Friday evening, and even after a 4 hour nap in the car ride back I was still able to sleep a good 5 hours straight in my own bed on Friday night... since I had stayed up for 23 hours straight before leaving the rig.
I had a pretty easy last few days on the job because they had some problems downhole and we didn't go back to drilling until late last night -- when I was already home. But apparently my luck gave out when I reached dry land.
Today (or yesterday, rather since it was Saturday), I tried all the "right things" to get myself switched over to a normal schedule. I knew it was going to be tough, but I thought it would be fun -- and helpful -- if I did a 19 mile hike around a nearby lake. Exercise and sunlight are two of the highest recommended aids to resetting your circadian rythym, and I received a surfeit of both. Now I'm sunburned (just a little) and sore (all over) ... and I just woke up as if I'd planned on only taking a 3 hr nap. Sigh.
Now, I have a couple of great photos from my hike which I would LOVE to post, but I seem to have misplaced my camera cord sometime between Thanksgiving and now. Mom, Dad, is there by any chance a small black cord that mysteriously appeared at either of your houses? Yeah, it's really distinctive, I know.
I guess it's time to whip out a movie and do some crocheting. Enjoy your restfulness, all you slumbering readers, and be grateful for it.
P.s. Don't believe this website's timestamp, which they get from West Coast time -- just add 2 hrs and you'll have my ungodly hour.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
When all else fails... VEGGIES!!
I've been on this rig for nearly three weeks, and it hasn't exactly been a cakewalk in that time as you are well aware from my recent blog posts.
I've been trying to come up with a topic to discuss, but I was having trouble avoiding any subject matter that wouldn't involve a great deal of me whining to you. No matter how low-key work has been lately -- we haven't been drilling for a number of days now -- I still have plenty of spleen that begs venting. But no! I refuse (at the moment) to inflict any more vitriol on you, my beloved readers. So I've decided instead to devote this post once again to vegetables.
I realized in 2009 that despite my valiant efforts to live up to my New Year's Resolution of eating more vegetables that I still failed pretty miserably whenever I was on days off in Lafayette and cooking for myself. I have therefore decided, perhaps quixotically, that I will redouble my efforts this year in a renewed and re-focused resolution to EAT MORE VEGETABLES ALL THE TIME.
It's only the 5th day of the New Year, and I haven't been back on land in weeks, so we have yet to see how well this resolution will pan out for me. It's going to take effort, but all good things do, right?
I'm currently on a jackup-style rig about 120 miles south of New Orleans. It's about half the size of my previous digs, but still offers a good variety of amenities and a very cozy environment. To grade the produce selection of the galley, however, I would have to give them a C+ .
They have a dedicated salad bar with every meal (except breakfast), but the vast majority of items are NOT vegetables! They have potato salad, noodle salad, hard-boiled eggs, grated cheese, etc, etc. I routinely grab a big bowl of iceberg lettuce, sliced cucumber and chopped tomatoes, for they are the only items which I deem nutritional and enjoyable enough to eat.
They will often serve cooked vegetables as side items to various meals, like the standard broccoli on steak days (Tuesdays and Saturdays in case you're keeping track), but they fall prey to that LOATHED southern habit of cooking them with a couple tablespoons of butter! I don't know how I shall survive such nausea-inducing dishes. Every once in a while I get lucky and they've forgotten to butter up the cauliflower, but those are rare and precious days.
Fresh fruit is laid out in abundance, so I use it frequently as a source of dietary fiber (fruit has fiber, right?), but this blog is not named "Vegetable Oil" for nothing, so they get no points there.
So they get a C+. The C is for general blase-ness about vegetables, the + is for the fact that I can always load up on the aforementioned uninspired salad with each meal, so I'm not lacking for greens.
But would you please stop peeling the cucumbers when you chop them? Pretty please?
I've been trying to come up with a topic to discuss, but I was having trouble avoiding any subject matter that wouldn't involve a great deal of me whining to you. No matter how low-key work has been lately -- we haven't been drilling for a number of days now -- I still have plenty of spleen that begs venting. But no! I refuse (at the moment) to inflict any more vitriol on you, my beloved readers. So I've decided instead to devote this post once again to vegetables.
I realized in 2009 that despite my valiant efforts to live up to my New Year's Resolution of eating more vegetables that I still failed pretty miserably whenever I was on days off in Lafayette and cooking for myself. I have therefore decided, perhaps quixotically, that I will redouble my efforts this year in a renewed and re-focused resolution to EAT MORE VEGETABLES ALL THE TIME.
It's only the 5th day of the New Year, and I haven't been back on land in weeks, so we have yet to see how well this resolution will pan out for me. It's going to take effort, but all good things do, right?
I'm currently on a jackup-style rig about 120 miles south of New Orleans. It's about half the size of my previous digs, but still offers a good variety of amenities and a very cozy environment. To grade the produce selection of the galley, however, I would have to give them a C+ .
They have a dedicated salad bar with every meal (except breakfast), but the vast majority of items are NOT vegetables! They have potato salad, noodle salad, hard-boiled eggs, grated cheese, etc, etc. I routinely grab a big bowl of iceberg lettuce, sliced cucumber and chopped tomatoes, for they are the only items which I deem nutritional and enjoyable enough to eat.
They will often serve cooked vegetables as side items to various meals, like the standard broccoli on steak days (Tuesdays and Saturdays in case you're keeping track), but they fall prey to that LOATHED southern habit of cooking them with a couple tablespoons of butter! I don't know how I shall survive such nausea-inducing dishes. Every once in a while I get lucky and they've forgotten to butter up the cauliflower, but those are rare and precious days.
Fresh fruit is laid out in abundance, so I use it frequently as a source of dietary fiber (fruit has fiber, right?), but this blog is not named "Vegetable Oil" for nothing, so they get no points there.
So they get a C+. The C is for general blase-ness about vegetables, the + is for the fact that I can always load up on the aforementioned uninspired salad with each meal, so I'm not lacking for greens.
But would you please stop peeling the cucumbers when you chop them? Pretty please?
Friday, January 1, 2010
I hope it's not a sign of things to come
Guess what I get to do to start off the new year? Switch over to night shift! Yayyyyyy!
*crickets chirping*
Okay, so admittedly I have said in the past that I enjoy working night shift. There's something quieter about the world -- even when I have to wear earplugs to keep from going deaf on the rig floor, the job just seems a bit calmer.
But really, I'm just NOT in the mood to work night shift right now. Too bad for me, because I promised my night hand that I would break him out as day hand this week. He's ready for the promotion to Cell Manager, and he certainly deserves it. At least now I can ease off some of the onus of responsibility from my shoulders onto his -- he needs to learn how to run the job, after all!
I woke up today at the usual 4am. I sort-of worked, mostly goofed off until my night hand arrived on the helicopter at about 9am. Then we had a long talk about operations and job plans, and I went to bed at noon for the "short change", where you work six hours, get six hours off, and then work twelve hours. Some rig crews have to short change every week they're out here. I don't know how they do it.
We picked today to be my short change because our new tools haven't arrived yet, we're not going to be drilling anytime soon, and we're mostly caught up on all the backlog of paperwork, etc. So it's a low-key enough night that if I fall asleep in my chair repeatedly for hours on end, nothing will go wrong.
So, have a good night to all of you who are going to be in bed in a few hours. I hope you realize how lucky you are.
*crickets chirping*
Okay, so admittedly I have said in the past that I enjoy working night shift. There's something quieter about the world -- even when I have to wear earplugs to keep from going deaf on the rig floor, the job just seems a bit calmer.
But really, I'm just NOT in the mood to work night shift right now. Too bad for me, because I promised my night hand that I would break him out as day hand this week. He's ready for the promotion to Cell Manager, and he certainly deserves it. At least now I can ease off some of the onus of responsibility from my shoulders onto his -- he needs to learn how to run the job, after all!
I woke up today at the usual 4am. I sort-of worked, mostly goofed off until my night hand arrived on the helicopter at about 9am. Then we had a long talk about operations and job plans, and I went to bed at noon for the "short change", where you work six hours, get six hours off, and then work twelve hours. Some rig crews have to short change every week they're out here. I don't know how they do it.
We picked today to be my short change because our new tools haven't arrived yet, we're not going to be drilling anytime soon, and we're mostly caught up on all the backlog of paperwork, etc. So it's a low-key enough night that if I fall asleep in my chair repeatedly for hours on end, nothing will go wrong.
So, have a good night to all of you who are going to be in bed in a few hours. I hope you realize how lucky you are.
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