One down, one to go ...

Halfway through the hitch from hell and I am really, really looking forward to getting home.

Except that I won't get all the way home until just before I come back. A long weekend with the family at the folks', then back to Louisiana for more training.

These short hitches are nice, but this one already feels three weeks old. It's been one thing after another since just before crew change.

Some of it stuff I don't want to write about in detail here, now, though I do subscribe to Ann Lamott's dictum that: "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."

Stuff I will mention: downflooding, bilge pumps not pumping, electrical malfunctions, bad starters and 32 hours straight on DP ("...that ain't nuthin' ..." some of my buddies on big mud boats say).

The customer has finally released us from the site for the morning, and we've taken care of the other issues over the past week with no recorded downtime, and some things we didn't even know were broken are now fixed.

We fixed some stuff we did know was broken, too. Stuff that's been broken for months. And by "we," I actually mean someone else, but it happened on my watch. And I spoke words of encouragement, nodded my head sagely and affirmed good decisions.

Yay team!

And there's only a week more to go.

On the other hand ... I've spent more time than I would like this past week playing armchair psychologist, trying to understand a couple of things that cropped-up.

I'm no doctor, and  I have never even played one on TV, still ... I'm fairly certain that in the past ... oh, let's say 10 days -- I've had to devote some time to dealing with one individual who suffers from untreated schizophrenia, or a schizophrenic disorder, and another individual who almost certainly suffers from narcissistic personality disorder.

Either one of these is a terrible burden to bear, and I'm sympathetic (particularly to the former), but unless the affected individual is a family member or close friend, I'm not very inclined to stand in the line of fire.

Let me be clear: we don't worry overmuch about strange out here; we're all a little "different," or we wouldn't be on boats. When oddness becomes physically violent, or in some way a career impediment to someone else, then it's time to perhaps change the situation. Just sayin' ....

On the other, other hand (I have three) -- I'm sailing this hitch with a couple of guys I really like and respect, so that kind of blunts the drama trauma.

Talking to someone about all this the other day, she said: "Well, I guess it's not so different than an office environment ... you get all kinds ..."

True. But at least in a shore-based job you get to go home at the end of the day.

In other news, I just finished a great novel, Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel (on sale now for Kindle at $2.99). Even if you're not into post-apocalyptic, dystopian worlds, you'll probably still like this book. It even manages to poke some good-natured fun at behavioral psychologist business consultants. Which is what my sweet wife is in her professional life.

And J.J. Grey's new album, Ol' Glory, is out -- bluesy southern soul that's just about perfect listening overnight on a boat in the oil patch in the spring of 2015.

'Pre-loading,' Funny Math and Other Stuff

We are bobbing around just offshore of Dauphin Island right now, on safety standby as the liftboat we are working with pre-loads.

There is a really detailed explanation of pre-loading (and some other interesting liftboat stuff) here, but basically it means that the ballasted liftboat is very slowly and carefully making the transition from vessel afloat to work platform.

Meanwhile, we drift with engines idling. The wind is out of the southwest at about 8 knots, the current is headed southeast at about 3 knots, and we're hanging between the two, slipping gently astern at about one-third of a knot.

Every hour or so I put the mains in gear for a couple of minutes and point us back toward the liftboat.

Last hitch we spent the last 10 days or so transferring cargo and pumping water. By the time we got back to the dock for crew change we were so light I felt like I was back on a crewboat when I looked over the bulwarks. Our laden freeboad of about two feet was suddenly about six feet.

Back home we had a nice mix of warm, sunny days and cool nights. I got the lawn mowed, we celebrated the teen son's 16th with family, we had company, and then had company again. In the second round the daddies took the youngsters down to the river while the ladies got pedicures. Followed by a double-date for German food and lounge time.

All in all, it was  a pretty satisfying two weeks off work.

My wife sent along a link to a news story yesterday: 5 reasons why you shouldn't work too hard. It got me thinking about my job, and I did a little math: on this new, and hopefully not temporary, schedule working 180 days/year, I end up working 2,160 hours/year.

That's equivalent to a full year's worth of 40-hour weeks plus two more. And I spend a minimum of another two weeks commuting or training.

So, 56 weeks of work every 12 months.

That's a lot better than a 240-day schedule (28 days on, 14 days off or 14/7), which totals 2,880 hours per year, or equivalent to 72 weeks of 9-to-5 labor.

In the context of the Washington Post article linked above, I wondered for a moment if I work "too hard."

Probably not.

A 12-hour watch in bad weather or with continuous cargo operations or a difficult approach in zero visibility is as draining as any physical labor I've every done, especially when there is only broken sleep between watches.

Shipyard is pretty hard. But other times -- tonight for instance -- those 12 hours are mostly just tedious. I'm more likely to die of boredom than heat stroke or mental stress.

On the other hand, and to the point of that article, when I am off I am really off. There are no emails to check or answer, no teleconferences, no quick trips back to the office for a can't-miss meeting or last-minute report.

Talking to a friend, another captain, about this earlier, he said: "So, have you broken that down to an hourly rate?"

No. No I haven't. I decided not to do a little more math at that point, because I figured the answer would depress me.

Earlier this morning I came across another maritime blog I had not yet seen -- it was linked on Lela Joy's site. The blogger, who lives on the West Coast, is about my age and, like me, made a dramatic career change a couple of years ago.

One of his posts, from February of last year, is called "Maritime Reality," and in it he touches on some of the same topics.

I guess some facets of this career are pretty universal, no matter which coast you're on or segment of the industry you work in.

Anyway, it's a great blog: Back to Sea With Me -- definitely worth a look. In his latest post, the writer mentions that his application for mate is being evaluated and wonders how long that might take.

I was pretty pleased with the turnaround time on my raise-in-grade application over the holidays: about a month from submission to my approval to test. Only, my evaluator missed a couple of important (to me, anyway) items on the application.

Some were fixed with an email and a phone call. One, though, was not. I think I've written before that I applied for both master and mate and hoped to test for both the same week.

My evaluator could not at first understand why I would want to do that ("But Master is the higher license!" she said.) and then told me she would have to check with management to see if it was even possible.

My view: Of course it's possible. Maybe not routine, but there is nothing in the CFRs that prohibits it. And if I qualify to test for master, then surely I qualify to test for mate as well.

Actually, I didn't come up with this all by myself. The fellow who writes merchant mariner credential policy for the Coast Guard heartily recommended it in a public forum -- both for efficiency, and to take advantage of the shrinking window of opportunity to be grandfathered under the rules pre-STCW 2010 implementation.

The efficiency part is that while master and mate exams involve some different modules, much of the material is the same or very similar. And while the exam for Master 500 GRT Oceans will get me to Master 1600 GRT Oceans and Master 500-3000 GT without further testing, the Mate exam will carry me all the way through 2nd Mate all gross tons.

Anyway, it's been six weeks since I sent in my letter requesting reconsideration of that decision and still no answer. I checked back earlier in the week and I received an emailed apology and assurances that I would have an answer on where my answer is and when I might expect it.

If my request is denied, the next step is an appeal, and that goes to the same guy who suggested we do this to begin with.

Meanwhile .... the clock is ticking, and I really should be studying. Harder. Or ... at all.

I've had time to reconsider my strategy, and to weigh whether I want to take a terrestrial navigation and review course and ask the Coast Guard to amend my application to Near Coastal, or if I want to take that course immediately followed by an approved celestial navigation course and ask the Coast Guard to amend my application to accept the course in lieu of testing at the Regional Exam Center.

I'm now leaning towards the former, because I'll test sooner and get the credential I need this year and I can always increase the scope later. Plus, a couple of my captain friends may be able to take the same course at the same time. Which would make things cheaper, if we could share accommodations. It would definitely make it more fun.

Either way, nowhere in my plans is the notion that I'm going to walk into the REC and take the celestial navigation exam cold.

Figuring this stuff out is some sort of analogue to the time-speed-distance formulae we use in plotting. Only this is a time-expense-opportunity formula.

The opportunity part is important, because the oil patch slowdown is now in full effect, with several hundred boats cold-stacked. Things are tight, and I'm happy my boat is working. Even if this particular watch this particular morning is a little bit tedious.

Hey, I just noticed: 17 seagulls on the starboard beam. Why 17, and not 16, or 18, or three or 30? The mystery ....

And now for something completely different

Well, we’re back on the job and I can’t decide if it’s the best job ever, or the worst job ever. My opinion changes with the weather, mostly because our heading and speed over ground do not.

We are one of a fistful of support vessels for a five-ship seismic fleet searching for buried treasure about a hundred miles offshore from south of Pensacola, Fla., to off of the South Pass of the Mississippi River.

Sometimes we act as a guard vessel, ahead and outside of one of the big boats, warning approaching and crossing traffic that we require a 7nm CPA astern and 3nm abeam and ahead. Other times we are chasing the tail buoys at the end of five miles of steerable streamers.

On yet other occasions, we act as the safety standby vessel when one of the survey ships launches a workboat to service their cables underway, or crew changes via helicopter. Sometimes they send us out ahead of the fleet to scout for reported obstructions or to provide current readings at a given location.

The planning that goes into something like this – both ahead of the project, and during operations -- is mind-boggling. The two seismic survey ships have dedicated navigation departments. I imagine them to look something like an Aegis missile cruiser’s combat information center.

Anyway, it’s good to be working after too many weeks pushed-up on the mud. An idle boat + oilfield slowdown = one nervous crew.

It’s hardly worth mentioning – but I’m going to anyhow (send the cheese care of my wife) – that with the new job came the promise of my third-in-a-row late crew change.

My first hitch I voluntarily worked-over for another captain and the customer then held us over in the field. I can live with that … weather, customer whims, emergencies – these things make our crew change dates and times a rough guide rather than an actual schedule.

At the end of my second hitch, we were off-charter and at the dock two hours ahead of the relief crew’s arrival. About 30 minutes before they were due to show up we got a call from the office informing us that one guy wasn’t going to make it, but a fill-in was on a plane, and we could expect them in “a couple of hours.”

Mmmmm … not so much. Twelve hours later I was actually, finally, on my way home, by that time going on 24 hours since I last slept.

This time we knew a good 30 hours in advance of our departure from the dock that we would not be back in time for our scheduled crew change. That, in fact, we would miss it by at least several days.

“If you need to get someone down here early, you’d better call your office now,” the company man said. I concurred, and listed the reasons, including the fact that the deckhand who has been on the boat 70-something days at this point had a ticketed international flight the day after we were scheduled to be home.

Anyway, I went to bed thinking it would be resolved through the chain-of-command. Didn’t happen.

I spent, literally, many hours scheduling everything I needed to do in my “off” time so that it did not interfere with the boat’s schedule. 

Two surgeries, two endorsements for my license upgrade and a week-long vacation with the family.

The procedures have been rescheduled, the vacay reservations amended.

And now I’ll have to take extra time off of work to make all this happen, and the company will have to find someone to fill-in for me. I am assured by my crew coordinator it won’t be a problem, but it’s still less than ideal for everyone.

There is no guarantee our crew coordinator could have found fill-ins on 24-hour notice, but he sure would have tried. 

The bottom line is that this little delay is costing the family thousands of dollars. Possibly as much as $6,504, depending on when I get back to the boat. (The $4 was the change fee for my plane ticket home.)

Waaaa, right?

But hey, we’re working. And that’s a good thing. It’s about to be an uncomfortable good thing – a norther blew through at 0552 with 40+ kts of wind. Seas are forecast to build to 10-12 with the occasional 16-footer thrown in for good measure. 

The entire fleet is running before the weather now.

Some Days You're the Painter

And some days you're the paint. You just gotta roll with it either way.

I joined the new boat in shipyard: bottomside and classification society survey this week, followed by the topside (safety) inspection a couple more weeks down the road.

I was pretty thrilled that the shipyard guys sandblasted the hull and back deck and painted both for us.

I was less thrilled when they sandblasted the boat in dry dock right next to us immediately after pressure-washing our vessel mast-top to keel.

That's sort of the way it's been going: get the windows in the wheelhouse taped-up, then watch it rain for three hours. Start painting the wheelhouse, then quit and hope it sticks when a thunderstorm rolls in.

So it's good we have a little time. Apparently we'll need it.

Not least because there's ... well, there's a lot of paperwork with this company, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around the two daily reports, three weekly drills, the monthly and quarterly and 90-day (not the same thing as quarterly) drills, weekly trainers, the three separate monthly vessel condition reports, etc., etc.

The new boat is still under 100 GRT, though it's 170-ft. long. We operate with a five-man crew, which is better than the last crewboat's four, but probably not quite enough to comfortably handle all of the ISM paperwork we're required to do.

Still, great training for the next boat, which will (hopefully) be over 100 GRT.

This company's got them, which is one of the reasons I wanted to work here.

First impressions: good crew with the best kind of friendly, helpful and salty old captains; we don't have to twist anyone's arm to get the supplies we need (heck, we've had five mechanics on board the last week to completely rebuild our mains, generators and bow thruster -- and they're not even broken).

I feel a little like country mouse in the city, arriving on a steel hull from a crewboat. We have an icemaker. We have a pressure washer that is plumbed to fittings throughout the vessel. Our compressed air also is plumbed to fittings throughout the boat.

We have WiFi and satellite TV, and the company pays for it.

We have an honest-to-God satellite phone, and we can use it to call home when we're offshore.

So far, so good. I'm happy to be back at work.

Do as I say ...

There's a right way to do most things, and a wrong way, and sometimes the right way both feels right and pays off in the long run.

Sometimes the wrong way costs some money but makes you feel a little better anyhow and doesn't do any long-term damage.

That's the hope, anyway.

Those of you who are paying close attention, all one of you, will realize that my photo essay post includes a clue; namely, that my crew change is Tuesday night, not mid-day Monday.

Long story short: I walked off the boat. The call to the port captain was anti-climactic: Me: "I'm fixin' to put my sh*t on the dock and walk off the boat." Him: "(Sigh) I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. I appreciate you calling me."

He did ask me why.

"Because (his name rhymes with "Dick") is a jackass." And I elaborated. Which I won't do here.

He's gotten this call, or maybe been notified after the fact, six or seven times in the past twelve months alone. So I guess it wasn't a huge surprise.

Confession: I was making a point. Fact is, I had already decided to put in my trip notice. In fact, I already had another job -- the one I wanted almost two years ago -- lined-up. I had planned to at least see the current boat through the trip up the Atchafalaya River and the Coast Guard inspection.

I now report for my physical and drug test at the new place Monday.

The friend I came to this company -- this boat - to work with, had already given his notice. The lead captain on the boat had dangled "second" in front of him for the better part of the last year, and then told him and me that I would be the relief master because he was "too young."

That wasn't the reason he gave in his exit interview -- he talked about wanting to upgrade his license, move to bigger boats, having learned what he needed to learn there, etc., etc. All true. And he was going to ride another two weeks, give them time to find a replacement.

I don't think he minded working for me, though he knew the boat and job better than I did and had busted his butt for nearly a year. And as far as that goes, I didn't mind working for him though I helped train him on twin-screws a couple of years ago.

It was an integrity thing ... a social contract broken.

Anyway, with my buddy on the way out, I had zero incentive to stay on a boat with a lead captain with the personality of wet cardboard and a Napoleon complex to boot.

At least the boat didn't beat me. I was putting her in the slip and taking her out in clutch, holding her just fine at the rigs ... as I think I wrote before, she was very different from my previous boat -- reportedly the "hardest boat in the Gulf" (I kinda doubt it), but by no means impossible.

I have to say, it was a nice feeling, sitting under a pavilion at the marina next to our dock, drinking a cold beer while waiting on the Enterprise Rent-a-Car pickup driver to arrive.

It was, I judged, even worth the $250 drop fee for a one-way rental back to Texas.

I solved the problem of how to retrieve the truck four hours distant from the house by loading up the wife and kids in the rental.

I solved the problem of not having my truck key with me upon arrival there by calling a locksmith.

The sleep deprivation ... we're all still dealing with that.

And my buddy on the boat, well, for at least the next two weeks he's the highest-paid captain in the company; will his resolve to move on survive the bribes and blandishments to stay on? Time will tell.

It's funny, I actually called him and said: "Do as I say, not as I do." But of course he already had. One of the many reasons I'm proud of my friend, my colleague, half my age.

It was a good learning experience -- the boat, supporting three drilling rigs, the crew ... as I acknowledged to one of my cousins the other day -- he's a former USCG-licensed master -- one can learn as much from the bad examples as the good examples ...

At any rate, I'm excited about the new gig. Great boat, great company, great benefits, good schedule.

That's the assessment from the outside, going-in. If I change my mind later, well, maybe it's just my problem and it may be time to reconsider this career change adventure.

But man, I do love the work. And the view from the office.

Going to Sea (Part I)

Reprinted below, with the kind permission of the author (a 500-ton Master, Oceans, and fellow Austinite) is probably the single best primer on how to get started in marine transportation. Originally posted to gCaptain, an interwebs forum for mariners.

Reality Is Nothing Like The Dream

So you got it somewhere in your head that a life at sea is for you. The constant adventure, interesting port calls, the mesmerizing sunrise and sunsets on the water, the never-ending sea stories to tell those back home are all you can think about.

You’ve watched too many movies. Those days, if they ever really existed, are long dead.

The United States no longer has a robust blue water shipping fleet. Military Sealift Command and NOAA are the closest one gets to blue water shipping and the disadvantages far out way the advantages for most of us mariners.

The majority of jobs are now on tugs and oil field vessels. While these jobs offer their own challenges and rewards it’s not what you have seen on TV. This is a serious business and we have no time for guys come out here with romantic visions of shared hardships and gallant struggles.

We bust our ass to make it home to our families and the hope for a better life for them and ourselves through our paychecks. At the end of the day that’s all that counts too many of us.

If you really want to know what life is like on a work boat visit the link below for a real run down of what life is like for a deckhand. While it’s geared more for the navy, 95% of it holds true for the commercial side. http://goatlocker.org/resources/nav/simulate.htm

Are You Sure You Want To Do This?

Still not scared off? Then sit down and ask yourself the following questions and see if you are really ready to commit and make the sacrifices needed to start working.

1- Can you go weeks if not months without talking to anybody at home? I mean this, NOBODY, not your parents, not your friends, not your wife, not your kids. If you are married can your family live without you for the length of your hitch? Do you have small kids and can your wife handle being essentially a single parent for 6 to 9 months out of the year? 

Your world while at work can consist of a very small boat for weeks at a time, with as few as 3 other guys onboard that you will more than likely have nothing in common with and the only time you step on land is to take the garbage to the dumpster while at the dock. There are no quick runs to the store, no nights on the town, just the boat.

2- I don’t care how old you are, what your background is or how educated you think you are. You know nothing the first year at sea. You are now working in a heavy industrial environment with the added fun of inclement weather and confined spaces. I don’t expect you to know everything, but I do expect you ask questions and listen.

Good rule of thumb is if you don’t know what something is or what it does ask about it, but until then do not touch. This means you are going to have to put your ego in check and expect that you are going to be chewed out over something eventually, multiply times actually. You are going to be expected to do the tough dirty jobs that have to get done. Your days are going to consist of long hours of boredom separated by tons of cleaning, painting, and working on deck.

3- You need at minimum a Transportation Worker Identification Cars (TWIC). This cost $150 plus the time to it takes to go to whatever office is closest to you TWIC. Once to apply, once to pick it up. If you want a better chanc,  a Merchant Mariner Document (MMD) with your Basic Safety Training (BST) as laid out by STCW can help. The MMD along with physical and drug screen will be around $300 and your BST is another $500 to $1000. This plus the cost needed to go find a job can add up so best to have some money saved up.

4- Chances are if you found gCaptain then you have some aspirations of being an officer. That’s fine, but realizes that it will take years of sea time and weeks of classes to even get your Able Seaman (AB) or 100 ton master license. If you want 500/1600 ton mate or masters then even more years of sea time and month of classes.

All of this outlined by the Coast Guard and they change the rules all the time. You are never really done as every five years when you come up for your license renewal you will have to take some refresher courses. Sadly none of this will be done while you are at work but done while you are on your off time.

It is expensive to take these classes and while sometimes you can get your company to pay for the classes, room, and board, don’t count on it. Also these classes are only held in certain parts of the country so unless you are extremely lucky to live close to one of these schools count of more time away from your family.

5- This industry is EXTREMELY cyclic. We go from boom to bust literally overnight. If a steadfast job security is important to you look somewhere else.

Look Mom I’m An Ordinary Seaman!

So you’ve taken some time and thought about it and are still interested in starting a career at sea but don’t know quite how to start let’s see if I can help.

1- TWIC http://www.tsa.gov/what_we_do/layers/twic/index.shtm

Start here. Find your nearest enrollment center, make an appointment and go get it. Takes about 6 weeks for it to come in. You cannot apply for your MMD until you have applied for your TWIC,

2- Get a Psychical using Coat Guard Form CG-719ke. Print it out and hand it to your doctor, make sure they sign it when they are through filling it out. http://www.uscg.mil/nmc/medical/forms/cg719ke.pdf

3- Don’t forget your drug screen. Here is a list of CG approved place to go along with the form that needs to be filled out when submitting everything to the CG.

http://www.uscg.mil/nmc/drug_testing.asp

http://www.uscg.mil/forms/cg/CG_719P.pdf

4- Find a BST class close that you that you can afford. Go to the pull down menu and select Basic Safety Training and the approved course throughout the country come up. 

If you see a course being offered somewhere but do not see them on this list ask to see their certificate from the Coast Guard. It will have the name of the course on it with expiration date on it. Make sure it’s for the class you want and that it hasn’t expired. http://www.uscg.mil/nmc/courses/appr...ses_course.asp

5- Ok now you’ve got everything together fill out the application for you MMD get all your copies of forms and certificates and submit everything to the nearest CG office and hopefully in 2-4 weeks you will get a packet from Martinsville WV with your MMD in it.

http://www.uscg.mil/nmc/download-docs/CG-719B-F5_(03-04).pdf

Going to Sea (Part II)

The following post is Part Two of the excellent "going to sea" primer by a member of the gCaptain community. Re-posted with his kind permission:

Time For A Road Trip!

Now that you busted your ass and spent several months getting your MMD, or years getting your Third Mate license, you feel like you deserve a job from the first place you think is lucky enough to have you.

Hold up and put that ego in check. Sad to tell you that you are not a special and unique snowflake, there are hundreds of guys just like you looking for that first job, and even more with experience looking at any one time for their next job. You might get lucky and have a job fall in your lap, but don’t count on it.

The industry is just starting to turn around and while an experienced guy can find work pretty easy, it’s harder for somebody with no experience. Hopefully these few tips will help:

1- What to pack in your sea bag. All you really need are steel toe boots, helps if you can also get a pair of steel toe rubber boots also, enough cloths to last a week mainly long pants and t-shirts, whatever medicine and stuff you need for the bathroom.

If possible bring more than enough if you end up working over. Not exactly a pharmacy right around the corner out here. Keep this in the back of your car on every interview. We are not kidding when we say have your bags packed when interviewing. What you think you are being hired for your sparkling personality and witty conversation? The reason they are hiring you is they need somebody RIGHT NOW! All you are is a warm body to them.

If you can’t leave right that second to get on a boat the HR guy is just going to wait 5 minutes for the next guy to walk through the door with his bags packed, and thus give that guy a new job.

2- What to wear to a job interview. You can wear a suit and tie, but don’t be surprised if you are better dressed then the guy interviewing you is. It’s a very informal industry. That said I have seen people show up looking for a job in flip flops, shorts, and a tank top. Please don’t be that guy, and if you are don’t complain that you can’t find a job.

I keep it simple, blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a button down shirt tucked in. I have long hair and keep it in a ponytail. Also if you have facial hair, keep it neat and trimmed up. The reason I wear the above is that when I get that new job and have to go to the boat I don’t have to worry about changing out of my suit in the bathroom someplace. You also don’t want to wear something that you are afraid to get stains on or snag on something when getting on a boat. Also boats are smelly and you don’t want your nice suite to smell of boat when you get home, do you?

3- How to actually get that first job: I work in the Gulf oil fields on supply boats so this next section will mainly apply to finding work in the oil patch. I’m sure other places are the same, just the locations are different. Don’t waste your time with online applications or constantly calling on the phone for your first contact if you have no experience.

You are going to have to get in your car and drive down to where the boat companies are. Most of them are located along Hwy 90 between New Orleans and Lafayette, with a high concentration of them along LA-1 towards Golden Meadows. If I see another thread in the Jobs section from somebody complaining that they cannot find a job and they have not gotten off their ass and made multiply trips through southern Louisiana I am going to scream.

I live in Austin, TX it’s a 10-hour car ride down there so I get that the trip can be expensive and time consuming. It takes a week to seriously hit most of the boat supply boat companies, and you are more than likely going to have to do it multiply times.

So plan to take at least two weeks. The first one to see everybody you can and the next to go back to the ones you liked and showed the most promise. I’ve had to repeat this several time over the course of several months to find a job before. To find where to go in Louisiana type “Supply Boat Companies In Louisiana” or any such variant in Google to get their address.

4- The Interview: Most importantly besides having your bags packed for work it to have all your documents together. I have a file folder to keep them in along with receipts and any other work related stuff I want to keep together. Also it helps to have your Social Security card and your passport, if you have one. When you walk in, go to the receptionist and ask to fill out an application, look smart and bring your own pen, she will hand you an application and ask you for your documents so she can make a copy to go along with your application.

Be nice to the ladies at the front desk, they are the gatekeepers and are just as important to you getting a job as the HR man. Make small talk with them and use lots of please and thank you with them. After you fill out the application and hand it back to the receptionist ask if they are seeing anybody toady.

Hopefully they are and she’ll either give you your documents back or keep them for the HR man to look over. Go sit down and wait. If she says they are not seeing anybody today ask when the best time might be to stop by and see someone is and come back then. If she says that the HR guy only sees people by appointment, thank her for her time and move on to the next company.

When the HR guy comes out get up and shake his hand look him in the eye and introduce yourself and what job you are looking for. You guys will then take a few minutes doing the usual interview thing; he will then offer you a job or tell you that they have nothing available right now. If that’s the case then get up shake his hand and tell him that you will check back with him in a few days.

And so with the next company and the next. The thing to remember is that you want to make a good impression because you will more than likely be talking to him over the next few months as you keep looking for a job. He will start to remember you and it you just might get a call one day looking for a deckhand because he remembers you and knows that you’re serious about working.

In Closing

Did I mention if you have questions please do a search first? Any general question you can think of has been asked and answered numerous times. If you search and can’t come up with an answer to a specific question then go ahead and ask, but please include as much information as possible and put some thought into how you are asking it.

We are constantly answering the same question over and over, and this has caused a few members to equip them selves with pointy sticks and others to get even bigger ones. So to save your self some embarrassment do a search. This also keeps the number of threads asking the same questions down so that when someone does a search they don't get page after page of related threads and then you have to dig through all of them to find the information you are looking for.

You will find discussion about the use of head hunters around the forums. Avoid the ones asking you to sign a contract stating that if they find you a job you will pay them an amount equal to 14 days of work. Don’t sign on with those blood suckers. Along with taking your money they give kickbacks to whoever hired you to use them.

So you are essentially paying the HR man to hire you. What they are doing is technically illegal, but have yet to be brought to justice. There are a few companies that don’t charge you and they try, but I have never had luck using them. I’ve always found my jobs the old fashioned way, with the employment agencies calling me a few days after I get my new job with job offers.

Every now and then a guy looking for a spot on a yacht gets lost and ends up on this forum. If you haven’t figured it out yet we are commercial- oriented and can give little if any help outside of questions related to license upgrades.