Sea Stories: The Worst Jobs Aboard Ship

[Gunboat1]

Sea Stories:  #50 - The Worst Jobs Aboard Ship

 

I'm sure that I have mentioned before that there are a lot of uncomfortable aspects to shipboard naval service. Hazards abound, and they will be the subject of another tale. But as in any home, or business, or city, there are a few “dirty jobs” which no one really WANTS to do, but someone HAS to do. These tasks are usually farmed out to the most junior sailors, or to someone who has incurred his Chief Petty Officer's displeasure by dint of some wrongdoing or other. I will relate a few of these unpleasant jobs. And remember, all of these take place aboard a moving, rolling ship (or submarine), often thousands of miles from home, after months of separation from loved ones and “normal” life, and under a near-constant condition of sleep deprivation. Sometimes being a sailor just ain't much fun.

Heavy Weather Lookout: By international law, a ship must maintain a proper visual lookout topside, 24x7. That means three sailors (port, starboard and aft) must be outside, in the weather, at all times. Hot, cold, snowing, ice storm, dust storm, heavy seas, you name it. They are rotated to keep them healthy and alert, but when the weather is inclement, this is most uncomfortable. Not fun.

Scullery duty: The ship's galley feeds a crew of hundreds to perhaps thousands of sailors. “Three hots and a cot” (meaning three square meals a day and a place to sleep) are absolute guarantees of an enlistment contract for every sailor. And while trained and rated specialists prepare these meals relatively expertly, the less technically demanding tasks of washing dishes, grinding up and disposing of garbage, food scraps and packaging are performed on a rotating basis by junior enlisted men detailed to the Supply Department for the purpose. This is historically called “mess cooking” duty. Imagine working in the garbage grinder space, processing hundreds of pounds of food scraps, spoiled produce, potato peelings, rancid milk, etc. After every meal. Not fun.

Bilge Cleaning: Cleanliness is very important onboard ship. It is a matter of disease prevention, yes. Lots of sailors packed into a metal box can easily contract any number of infectious diseases if a high state of sanitation is not maintained. But in engineering and operations spaces, cleanliness is also about industrial safety. Engineering spaces are particularly difficult to keep clean. Oily deck plates are slip and trip hazards. Common dust, (the majority of which is shedded human skin flakes) is highly flammable. And a variety of flammable substances (fuel oil, lubricating oils and greases, hydraulic fluids, etc is contained in piping moving through the space. Pipe fittings, operating equipment and daily maintenance unavoidably allow some of these inherently hazardous substances to leak into the space, down through the gratings and deck plates and into the lowest recesses of the hull, called the bilges. There, they mix with or float on top of some quantity of seawater which finds its way into the bilges as well. Seawater is full of microscopic organic life forms; these die and decay, giving off odors. So from time to time, sailors have to loosen the deck plates and crawl down into the bilges to degrease, clean and wipe them down if necessary. This is a confined, uncomfortable area, with lots to bang your head, knees and elbows on. And the ship doesn't stop moving! Not fun.

Operating equipment: Occasionally, a particular piece of equipment may be a terrible taskmaster. I can think of two in my experience. One was a hydraulic accumulator, which served to pressurize and store hydraulic fluid in readiness to perform work in other connected equipment. This piece of equipment was placed far to one side of the engine room of a submarine, against the curved hull of the boat. There were several pipes running alongside the hull behind the unit. And the Accumulator leaked a bit. There was a constantly-forming puddle of hydraulic fluid which seeped out and around the base of the unit. I was assigned to keep this area clean on a daily basis. And in time, I found the only way to wipe up the hydraulic fluid behind the equipment foundation was to get another sailor to help me go in between the frames of the hull, behind the horizontal piping, headfirst. I would take along a wiping rag or three, and wipe up the oil while he held my ankles and helped pull me back out when I was done. Not fun.

The other beast was a large industrial document shredder, with huge, rotating, razor-sharp blades. My Radiomen had to destroy large quantities of printed message traffic, classified publications and used or canceled cryptographic material every week,using this shredder. It was mounted in a closet along a passageway, barely big enough to hold the unit and the operator with the door closed. It vibrated, roared, and generated huge quantities of dust and heat when in operation for a multi-hour shred session. The operator had to wear goggles, a dust mask, hearing protection and coveralls, and would sweat profusely in the confined space, emerging looking a bit like a sheep covered in white dust. It got so bad that one day, the equipment malfunctioned hugely and the operator shut it down immediately after starting. It became apparent that someone had dumped a handful of ball bearings into the hopper, sabotaging the machine and basically destroying it beyond repair. Document destruction was done in a burn barrel on the fantail for the rest of that deployment. We never did find out who had done the deed. Not fun x 2.

Head Cleaning: Of course, like any home or business, there are restroom facilities serving the occupants. These are shared, public rest rooms; think of a truck stop frequented by 150-200 sailors a day. Sailors come from all walks of life; some are more conscientious and cleaner in their habits than others. Some are seasick. Some may have intestinal illnesses. So the heads are less then pristine at any given moment other than just before an inspection. Someone has to clean them. Not fun.

Tank inspection: Speaking of the heads, some sailor has to maintain the equipment, like your civilian plumber. (On my first ship, a clog of the piping from one crew's head was discovered to be someone's dead baby rabbit. Heaven only knows how he got it aboard or why he flushed it instead of simply throwing it overboard.) But it is not normal for anyone to actually enter your septic tank. When a ship undergoes overhaul, the Collection, Holding and Transfer tanks which collect the sewage are cleaned and hydroblasted to keep them working well for another 3-5 years. And when that process is done, someone has to enter and inspect the tank to certify that it is properly done, and that no equipment, tools or other material which could clog the system are left inside. Not fun.

The Drain Pump Strainer: the worst job I personally ever had to do. On a submarine, all waste water as well as sewage must be collected so that it can be ejected from the boat under pressure, under control. So toilets drain to one tank (previously described in Sea Story #42 Submarine Toilets.) But the sinks and showers drain “gray water” to a different set of tanks, which are then pumped into a main collection tank for disposal, via a very powerful Drain Pump. This Drain Pump is protected from ingesting too much foreign material which could clog or damage it by a large duplex strainer. This has a perforated steel / wire mesh basket which catches all the stuff you don't want to go into the pump, but which some sailor felt it was appropriate to let flow down the sink or shower drain. If you have daughters, you already know what a horror the bathroom sink drain is due to hair clogs. Add soap scum, mucus, saliva and toothpaste residue. Perhaps hair gel. Multiply by a crew of 150 or so. Now, to put this delicately......a submarine shower is like a stainless steel telephone booth with a drain in the floor. It is completely enclosed and is THE ONLY PLACE ONBOARD THE BOAT WHERE AN ENLISTED MAN CAN FIND ANY PRIVACY. And some sailors, for reasons I do not understand, think it is appropriate to defecate in the shower and then smush it down the drain. Don't ask me; I'm just telling you what the Hull Technicians have told me. And oh yes, any other “secretions” created and then eliminated by sailors far from home find their way into the drain on very frequent occasions. And eventually, all of that finds its way to the drain pump strainer......which some poor sailor has to periodically open, and scrape clean with a steel implement, restoring smooth flow of gray water. NOT FUN!

Edited December 3, 2020 by Gunboat1

[aomagrat]

[Gunboat1]

LMAO.  Bacon was outstanding, wasn't he.  He really got it.

[blueiron]

I'd argue that it would be a Marine on sea duty. Marines have been land-centric for so long that we are strangers and a hazard afloat. 

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[willie-pete]