I woke up this morning surprisingly alert. Good news: I don't have a crippling cold. It turns out to be confined to just a simple head-cold, leaving me a slightly lethargic dripping faucet of mucous, but no aches, pains, fevers, or other debilitating un-pleasantries.
I was not so lucky with work, unfortunately. Last night the electronics of one of our tools was nearly flooded with mud. These tools are worth $500,000 a piece, and it's more than my job if one of those dies. This morning our manager called to yell at us to get our End of Well report (from the previous job) finished faster, because apparently in his opinion yelling at us makes the computers process quicker. Let me tell you: it doesn't. And today I had to juggle what felt like six different tasks at one time for the first nine hours of my shift. It was just a recipe for one big headache.
Although one thing good happened out of all that: it certainly made the day go by quickly!
Showing posts with label MWD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MWD. Show all posts
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, November 20, 2009
Question on Bonding
Today Hanna asked:
So being confined with a bunch of people for a few weeks can be seen as a bonding experience in some situations. Is that the case for working on an oil rig? - do you make friends and hang out and feel close to the people you're with? Or do you just interact purely on a professional level, then hide away in your room on your own at nights to relax, and then after a few weeks you go off to the next rig and forget about the people at the previous one?
By nature I'm rather aloof when in a professional setting, so I tend towards the latter. My usual routine involves waking up, heading to the gym for 30 minutes or so (depending on how late I sleep), attending the evening meeting at 5:30 , eating dinner, starting my shift at 6pm, working till 6am, giving notes to my day hand and chatting about stuff until 6:30, then eating breakfast and going to bed right away. Unless they're doing noisy construction in the living quarters, it's shockingly easy to sleep for 10 hours or more a day.
I eat alone more often than not, but when I do eat with other people our conversation tends towards the job. I'm friendly around the rig, and I'm always quick with a "Hi!" or "Good morning!" (it works both when I wake up and go to bed!), but I rarely get into a personal conversation with a rig hand that goes deeper than "where I'm from" and "what the heck I'm doing in Louisiana".
All exceptions to this generality are with my fellow MWD/LWD Engineers. We're all crammed together in our little steel box which predicates just such an idea, although with me it's still rare. I've hammered out a couple of pretty solid friendships over the stresses of a job, but in most cases I'll merely develop a slightly deeper understanding of my coworker, thus making it easier to converse with them at office parties, but not compelling me to invite them over to my house for a beer. We'll get a small sort of "comrade in arms" bond, but nothing particularly strong.
There is of course the other extreme, which hasn't happened to me (yet) since I try to keep the peace. But I have known countless occasions when a pair of engineers, after spending one or two volatile weeks on the same rig, will never want to see each other again -- it's a hazard of the close quarters.
There was one occasion when I thought a job might actually ruin a good friendship between myself and a girl named Margarita. Margarita is a really friendly, upbeat person, and we got along well whenever I saw her in social situations from the start. She chose me to be a part of her cell back in April, and we worked on the same rig off-and-on for a period of about 6 weeks.
While working together, I was dismayed when it seemed that she was extra-critical of my work and would blow up at the smallest misstep I made. I was inwardly seething at this treatment, and was having a difficult time maintaining my civility with her. Then one day I couldn't take it any more, and when I brought up my concerns we both burst into a very teary reconciliation, embraced each other strongly, and sniffled our way back into perfect friendship. All in front of the very male, and very uncomfortable, directional drillers.
I hope that answers your question! So who's next?
So being confined with a bunch of people for a few weeks can be seen as a bonding experience in some situations. Is that the case for working on an oil rig? - do you make friends and hang out and feel close to the people you're with? Or do you just interact purely on a professional level, then hide away in your room on your own at nights to relax, and then after a few weeks you go off to the next rig and forget about the people at the previous one?
By nature I'm rather aloof when in a professional setting, so I tend towards the latter. My usual routine involves waking up, heading to the gym for 30 minutes or so (depending on how late I sleep), attending the evening meeting at 5:30 , eating dinner, starting my shift at 6pm, working till 6am, giving notes to my day hand and chatting about stuff until 6:30, then eating breakfast and going to bed right away. Unless they're doing noisy construction in the living quarters, it's shockingly easy to sleep for 10 hours or more a day.
I eat alone more often than not, but when I do eat with other people our conversation tends towards the job. I'm friendly around the rig, and I'm always quick with a "Hi!" or "Good morning!" (it works both when I wake up and go to bed!), but I rarely get into a personal conversation with a rig hand that goes deeper than "where I'm from" and "what the heck I'm doing in Louisiana".
All exceptions to this generality are with my fellow MWD/LWD Engineers. We're all crammed together in our little steel box which predicates just such an idea, although with me it's still rare. I've hammered out a couple of pretty solid friendships over the stresses of a job, but in most cases I'll merely develop a slightly deeper understanding of my coworker, thus making it easier to converse with them at office parties, but not compelling me to invite them over to my house for a beer. We'll get a small sort of "comrade in arms" bond, but nothing particularly strong.
There is of course the other extreme, which hasn't happened to me (yet) since I try to keep the peace. But I have known countless occasions when a pair of engineers, after spending one or two volatile weeks on the same rig, will never want to see each other again -- it's a hazard of the close quarters.
There was one occasion when I thought a job might actually ruin a good friendship between myself and a girl named Margarita. Margarita is a really friendly, upbeat person, and we got along well whenever I saw her in social situations from the start. She chose me to be a part of her cell back in April, and we worked on the same rig off-and-on for a period of about 6 weeks.
While working together, I was dismayed when it seemed that she was extra-critical of my work and would blow up at the smallest misstep I made. I was inwardly seething at this treatment, and was having a difficult time maintaining my civility with her. Then one day I couldn't take it any more, and when I brought up my concerns we both burst into a very teary reconciliation, embraced each other strongly, and sniffled our way back into perfect friendship. All in front of the very male, and very uncomfortable, directional drillers.
I hope that answers your question! So who's next?
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Keep on Truckin'
Shortly after deciding not to evacuate for Hurricane Ida, the higher-ups made another gutsy decision. They decided we were going to drill during Ida as well!!
When we first reached the bottom of the hole (it took a while, being >25,000 ft deep) we made our first attempt to drill. After about thirty minutes of bouncing up and down and twisting the drill string back and forth in the rough seas they called "pause" for to wait on better weather.
Six hours later they were back on bottom, drilling ahead, and having such ridiculous fluctuations because of the still-raging seas that I was stressing out to no end over my data. When training to become a Measurements/Logging While Drilling Engineer, there is one phrase that they hammer into as if it's our religious doctrine.
"What is our most important measurement?" says the instructor
"Depth!" reply the dozens of students in perfect unison.
Without a good depth measurement, all our other measurements (surveys, formation information) are virtually meaningless. Hey, it's great if you see a pay zone on the logs, but what's the point of logging it if you don't know where it is?
Due to the rig heave we were had to keep manually changing our depth to the point where I practically abandoned any further attempts to stay accurate. Who knew where we were? Our logs were a mess, since we'd drill a couple feet normally and then shoot ahead almost ten feet so fast our sensors didn't record any info in the interval.
But eventually we got ourselves on track. And then, eventually the weather calmed down. In retrospect it seems like they definitely made the right decision by not evacuating, since they saved a few million dollars and drilled a good 1500 feet that we otherwise wouldn't have.
We've got a long way to go as yet. Of all our previous drilling runs, we made no more than 5000 feet of new hole in one go, and they're attempting to finish the last 7000 feet in one shot this time. This is an ambitious move. The hole is deep, the formation is tight, and there's a lot that could go wrong. We got stuck already once today for a brief moment, but they were able to jar the drilling assembly out of it quickly to everyone's relief.
With a nuclear source in the hole, nobody wants to get stuck. My company runs some of the only tools in the Gulf of Mexico that enable you to fish the source out while the tools are still in the hole, but at almost 30,000 ft deep, there's no guarantee that we'd be able to fish it out successfully. If the source is stuck, the entire hole must be filled with red cement and a placard must be placed on the sea floor warning any future visitors (if fish can read) that there is radioactive material down below. Then there's a LOT of paperwork and the oil company has to eat the cost of the abandoned well.
So here we go. We're at 29,000 feet now, with a planned total depth of 33,700, so I'll be keeping my fingers crossed until then.
When we first reached the bottom of the hole (it took a while, being >25,000 ft deep) we made our first attempt to drill. After about thirty minutes of bouncing up and down and twisting the drill string back and forth in the rough seas they called "pause" for to wait on better weather.
Six hours later they were back on bottom, drilling ahead, and having such ridiculous fluctuations because of the still-raging seas that I was stressing out to no end over my data. When training to become a Measurements/Logging While Drilling Engineer, there is one phrase that they hammer into as if it's our religious doctrine.
"What is our most important measurement?" says the instructor
"Depth!" reply the dozens of students in perfect unison.
Without a good depth measurement, all our other measurements (surveys, formation information) are virtually meaningless. Hey, it's great if you see a pay zone on the logs, but what's the point of logging it if you don't know where it is?
Due to the rig heave we were had to keep manually changing our depth to the point where I practically abandoned any further attempts to stay accurate. Who knew where we were? Our logs were a mess, since we'd drill a couple feet normally and then shoot ahead almost ten feet so fast our sensors didn't record any info in the interval.
But eventually we got ourselves on track. And then, eventually the weather calmed down. In retrospect it seems like they definitely made the right decision by not evacuating, since they saved a few million dollars and drilled a good 1500 feet that we otherwise wouldn't have.
We've got a long way to go as yet. Of all our previous drilling runs, we made no more than 5000 feet of new hole in one go, and they're attempting to finish the last 7000 feet in one shot this time. This is an ambitious move. The hole is deep, the formation is tight, and there's a lot that could go wrong. We got stuck already once today for a brief moment, but they were able to jar the drilling assembly out of it quickly to everyone's relief.
With a nuclear source in the hole, nobody wants to get stuck. My company runs some of the only tools in the Gulf of Mexico that enable you to fish the source out while the tools are still in the hole, but at almost 30,000 ft deep, there's no guarantee that we'd be able to fish it out successfully. If the source is stuck, the entire hole must be filled with red cement and a placard must be placed on the sea floor warning any future visitors (if fish can read) that there is radioactive material down below. Then there's a LOT of paperwork and the oil company has to eat the cost of the abandoned well.
So here we go. We're at 29,000 feet now, with a planned total depth of 33,700, so I'll be keeping my fingers crossed until then.
Monday, August 10, 2009
My New Digs... for now
Arriving at a new rig is always an exercise in confusion. Especially when the new rig is as big as this one. It's so big, it even has its own Wikipedia page.
I am again on assignment for the Queen's oil company, on the largest semi-submersible platform in THE WORLD producing a whopping 260,000 barrels of oil per day. As a measurements-while-drilling engineer, I am part of a team running some of my companies most expensive and high-tech tools that are currently commercially available on this rig. Out of us 5 MWD engineers and 2 Directional Drillers, I am the most junior employee and get to do all sorts of fun tasks like measuring the tools and loading batteries in the >100 degF heat (and yet somehow I'm the one with the most knowledge and experience of our new computer software?).
So the deal is: this place is a MAZE. I cannot even enter the living quarters without taking a wrong turn at least once. If, heaven forbid, I'm trying to find a room I've never been to before, I will always get so lost I'll end up helpless without someone to guide me to familiar surroundings. Fortunately many of the people living and working here are very helpful, and are more than willing to ask a lost-looking young woman if she's in need of some direction.
The orientation wasn't much help in that department. They took us from the helipad to the briefing room, and after showing us numerous safety videos we were escorted to the medic's office. From thence we visited the Company Man, and were instructed that our assigned lifeboats in the event of an evacuation were "that way". The Orientation Leader then proceeded to point in some direction which held absolutely no meaning for me since I had been led through countless windowless rooms and corridors, around corners, and up and down stairs. I think she may have even said "on the north side", but we are completely surrounded by water on all sides; not even a compass would help as this is a floating steel island.
Luckily I have since learned the location of my primary and backup lifeboat. I have even been able to get myself to the galley and down to my bedroom by myself on one or two occasions without requiring a search-and-rescue team.
I came out here as a temporary substitute for an engineer already assigned to this job, so I'm only supposed to be here for about a week. I suspect that by the time I leave I'll have mostly figured out the lay of the land here... if I believed that this would be only a temporary assignment. Chances are they'll be assigning that engineer to another job and leaving me out here 'indefinitely'. Such is the way life is.
In vegetable-related news, this rig has one of the best salad bars I have EVER SEEN! They have regular lettuce, baby spinach, and the "mixed spring greens" salad that I've only seen at upscale restaurants and in the bagged salad section at grocery stores. Their cooked vegetables leave much to be desired (I'm back to the days of soggy green beans cooked with bacon), but the benefits of the salad bar outweigh any and all sub-par alternatives.
I am again on assignment for the Queen's oil company, on the largest semi-submersible platform in THE WORLD producing a whopping 260,000 barrels of oil per day. As a measurements-while-drilling engineer, I am part of a team running some of my companies most expensive and high-tech tools that are currently commercially available on this rig. Out of us 5 MWD engineers and 2 Directional Drillers, I am the most junior employee and get to do all sorts of fun tasks like measuring the tools and loading batteries in the >100 degF heat (and yet somehow I'm the one with the most knowledge and experience of our new computer software?).
So the deal is: this place is a MAZE. I cannot even enter the living quarters without taking a wrong turn at least once. If, heaven forbid, I'm trying to find a room I've never been to before, I will always get so lost I'll end up helpless without someone to guide me to familiar surroundings. Fortunately many of the people living and working here are very helpful, and are more than willing to ask a lost-looking young woman if she's in need of some direction.
The orientation wasn't much help in that department. They took us from the helipad to the briefing room, and after showing us numerous safety videos we were escorted to the medic's office. From thence we visited the Company Man, and were instructed that our assigned lifeboats in the event of an evacuation were "that way". The Orientation Leader then proceeded to point in some direction which held absolutely no meaning for me since I had been led through countless windowless rooms and corridors, around corners, and up and down stairs. I think she may have even said "on the north side", but we are completely surrounded by water on all sides; not even a compass would help as this is a floating steel island.
Luckily I have since learned the location of my primary and backup lifeboat. I have even been able to get myself to the galley and down to my bedroom by myself on one or two occasions without requiring a search-and-rescue team.
I came out here as a temporary substitute for an engineer already assigned to this job, so I'm only supposed to be here for about a week. I suspect that by the time I leave I'll have mostly figured out the lay of the land here... if I believed that this would be only a temporary assignment. Chances are they'll be assigning that engineer to another job and leaving me out here 'indefinitely'. Such is the way life is.
In vegetable-related news, this rig has one of the best salad bars I have EVER SEEN! They have regular lettuce, baby spinach, and the "mixed spring greens" salad that I've only seen at upscale restaurants and in the bagged salad section at grocery stores. Their cooked vegetables leave much to be desired (I'm back to the days of soggy green beans cooked with bacon), but the benefits of the salad bar outweigh any and all sub-par alternatives.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Speed and Satisfaction
Wow! It's been a busy few days. They have been drilling so fast out here I've barely been able to keep up. They Rate of Penetration (ROP as we call it) has been upwards of 120 feet per hour, when I was previously (both in Wyoming and on the shelf) never faster than 20 feet per hour. Back in Arkansas they smoked through the holes at 300 feet per hour, but I didn't quite have the responsibilities I do here.
While we were drilling I was constantly alert and on edge for my shift. With each new piece of pipe in the hole, the rig would pump a "sweep" which consists of a few dozen gallons of mud that are heavier than the standard mud. This caused my tools signal problems, which in turn caused us to lose about 10 feet of data every 100 feet. These gaps, while tolerated by the client (they should tolerate them after all, they wanted the sweeps so it is THEIR fault!!!) are anathema to me and ALL I have been taught as an MWD Engineer. We have been indoctrinated in the belief that gaps in data are bad. VERY VERY BAD.
So I was ever monitoring the signal, changing parameters on our computers in vain hopes that I might not lose so much data each time a sweep came around. I also would monitor our sensor readings. I was constantly on the lookout that no one had knocked off a pump-stroke counter, that the hookload sensor measuring the weight of the drillstring was still within calibration, and that the depth of the hole was being tracked accurately. Then I would submit the survey data to the directional driller, the static density values to the mudloggers, enter the sonic tool's readings into their little spreadsheet, and keep a constant log of what was happening at all times. The total time spent drilling was actually only 20 hours, but even though it was spaced over the course of a few days I am glad it's over with.
So our tools are out of the hole. I have dumped their memory, processed their data and uploaded the logs to the client's servers. I unloaded two sets of batteries in the blazing sun, and now have what feels like a slight case of heat exhaustion. Luckily I am done. There is no more work to do until tomorrow afternoon, when the next set of tools arrives on the boat. I'm tired, and I'm going to eat some dinner, submit my morning report once the clock ticks past midnight, and go to bed early because I've earned it today. It's a job well done.
Until tomorrow when it starts all over again.
While we were drilling I was constantly alert and on edge for my shift. With each new piece of pipe in the hole, the rig would pump a "sweep" which consists of a few dozen gallons of mud that are heavier than the standard mud. This caused my tools signal problems, which in turn caused us to lose about 10 feet of data every 100 feet. These gaps, while tolerated by the client (they should tolerate them after all, they wanted the sweeps so it is THEIR fault!!!) are anathema to me and ALL I have been taught as an MWD Engineer. We have been indoctrinated in the belief that gaps in data are bad. VERY VERY BAD.
So I was ever monitoring the signal, changing parameters on our computers in vain hopes that I might not lose so much data each time a sweep came around. I also would monitor our sensor readings. I was constantly on the lookout that no one had knocked off a pump-stroke counter, that the hookload sensor measuring the weight of the drillstring was still within calibration, and that the depth of the hole was being tracked accurately. Then I would submit the survey data to the directional driller, the static density values to the mudloggers, enter the sonic tool's readings into their little spreadsheet, and keep a constant log of what was happening at all times. The total time spent drilling was actually only 20 hours, but even though it was spaced over the course of a few days I am glad it's over with.
So our tools are out of the hole. I have dumped their memory, processed their data and uploaded the logs to the client's servers. I unloaded two sets of batteries in the blazing sun, and now have what feels like a slight case of heat exhaustion. Luckily I am done. There is no more work to do until tomorrow afternoon, when the next set of tools arrives on the boat. I'm tired, and I'm going to eat some dinner, submit my morning report once the clock ticks past midnight, and go to bed early because I've earned it today. It's a job well done.
Until tomorrow when it starts all over again.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
DDs
Here is a quick briefing on directional drillers (read about the ones I'm working with in the post below).
I am a Measurements While Drilling Engineer (MWD), or a Logging While Drilling (LWD) Engineer (although technically both). I am in charge of tools that take the measurements to tell us what where drilling through, and what direction we're drilling in, the former being the Logging and the latter being the Measurements parts of my job description.
Directional Drillers (DDs) are in charge of the tools that take us in the direction that we want to go and are also in charge of making sure that we go that way.
It is fairly common for an MWD Engineer to "cross over" to the DD side, since DDs make about twice as much as we do. In fact, DDs have probably some of the highest salaries for the least necessary education I have ever heard of. I once worked with a DD in Arkansas that had a 2ND GRADE EDUCATION and made somewhere in the ballpark of $300,000/year before taxes. He had advanced from Roustabout (the bottom of the drilling operations totem pole), to Rig hand, to Driller (he operates all the machinery on the rig), to DD from the age of 17 to 40-something.
So, there you have it. Just so you know what I'm working with...
I am a Measurements While Drilling Engineer (MWD), or a Logging While Drilling (LWD) Engineer (although technically both). I am in charge of tools that take the measurements to tell us what where drilling through, and what direction we're drilling in, the former being the Logging and the latter being the Measurements parts of my job description.
Directional Drillers (DDs) are in charge of the tools that take us in the direction that we want to go and are also in charge of making sure that we go that way.
It is fairly common for an MWD Engineer to "cross over" to the DD side, since DDs make about twice as much as we do. In fact, DDs have probably some of the highest salaries for the least necessary education I have ever heard of. I once worked with a DD in Arkansas that had a 2ND GRADE EDUCATION and made somewhere in the ballpark of $300,000/year before taxes. He had advanced from Roustabout (the bottom of the drilling operations totem pole), to Rig hand, to Driller (he operates all the machinery on the rig), to DD from the age of 17 to 40-something.
So, there you have it. Just so you know what I'm working with...
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