Finding Nemo. 5/13/2004
Many years ago, a lifetime ago, I was working in the oil and gas industry, in an area where the sea was noted for its ferocity and extremely unforgiving nature. I was tasked to go out to one of a group of Production and Pressurisation Platforms. This particular platform relied for its power and compression needs on a gas turbine. This turbine was from a manufacturer now ceased operations, but their turbines were noted for being very powerful, but also very tempremental.
As a specialist, I was required to attend to the periodic maintenance of a pair of these turbines, and also attend to the occassional breakdown service. So I found myself, coming to the close of the year, fixing up a turbine which had decided to flame out at very odd occassions. After solving the problem, which required about 6 days of my time, working, eating, sleeping and living on this platform way out in the ocean, I was about ready to head back for shore, and told the Rig Superintendent that my work was finished and could he please book me a place on the morning chopper. He said fine, I was was all happy and went off to square away my gear.
The next morning, the wind was howling, and it was threatening to blow up a storm. I was deathly afraid the helo was going to be cancelled and I would be stuck for another day on the platform. As I was having breakfast in the mess hall, the Sup comes to my table and sits down in front of me. He looks me in the eye and told me that another platform in the group was having a problem with its turbine and could I please go have a look. Well, actually, he did say please, but the way he said it told me that my refusal was not an option.
So I sighed, and mentally totalled the extra allowances I was getting to soothe my wanting to get back on shore. I reported to the Radio room to arrange for my transfer to the next platform. And the Radio Operator told me the only way that they were going to do inter-rig transfers today was by rig tender. A rig tender is an 80 foot long work boat, and being a work boat, was not noted for comfort. This was not going to be any kind of sea cruise, because outside the R/O’s window I could see the wind whipping the waves up to 3 metres.
I then reported to the Main Deck, to arrange for transfer to the work boat. The wind was absolutely howling by now, and we had difficulty walking against the wind or standing up straight. Now, the normal method of transfer to a rig tender from the main deck, is by cargo basket. This is a round basket, with netting on 4 sides and gaps in between, where you put the cargo in the middle of the basket, and you stand outside hanging on to the netting. The crane operator looked at the wind, and said he would transfer my gear and tools first, and then only me and 2 others guys who were also making the trip.
A word about my tools. A gas turbine is a specialised piece of machinery, and requires special tools to fix it. Diagnostic tools, vibration analysers, precision hand tools, things like that. Which made my tool box very heavy. So I put my tools in the basket, together with my gear, and the other 2 guys did the same. We then stood back and watched the crane lift the basket into the sky above the main deck.
We walked over to the railing to look down at the tender, and saw the guys on the rear deck of the tender waiting with hooks to grab the basket. Why were they waiting with hooks? Because the wind was swinging the basket around like a pendulum. I looked up at the basket, and mouthed a silent “Oh, fuck!” The wind has suddenly gusted, and shifted the load in the basket. The basket was now tiliting dangerously to one side because of the imbalanced load. The netting was straining to hold everything in place, when it suddenly snapped. And all the gear, including my tools, fell off the basket and into 280 feet of deep water. I could only watch in a stunned silence, as I saw my $60,000 tool box sink into the ocean.