Dogbert’s Whip

For about a week now, I have endured the treacherous waves of the Gulf of Mexico as I embark on my new career as a trainee geophysicist aboard a seismic ship. Yep, ladies and gentlemen; the whiny person formerly known as the Geoscience Hunk Wannabe (GHW) has decided to join the ranks of Popeye and Captain Hook: I am now officially a seaman, or as one of my close friends would have it, a Geoscience Seaboy (GSB)!

Life aboard the Research Vessel (R/V) Polar Search has forced me to endure severe lifestyle changes. First up, I find it excruciatingly hard to maintain my sanity and jolly spirits when the whole place is wobbly all the time. For a person whose only previous maritime experience was on board a WG&A Superferry ship, the choppy waves can really get up the head. It’s a good thing that three other Pinoys are in Polar Search to keep me company. One of them, Hans, has berated me for not being friendly and accommodating enough to the other mostly Caucasian crew members. Well, I’m normally a very amiable person, but it’s so hard to pull off a Sandra Bullock (read: Ms. Congeniality) when you’re seasick most of the time.   

Second up is the food. Scarcity will never be an issue for research seafarers when it comes to the rations department. Our mess hall in the ship is probably a carnivore’s paradise – you can have all the bacon, ham, turkey, beef, and chicken that you desire. A sweet tooth will never be disappointed with the complete suite of available cookies, brownies, cakes, bread, and get this: six types of jams! A salad bar is always filled with fresh greens, cheeses, and smoked seafood. To top it all off, unlimited cans of soda and cartons of juice are available 24/7. After exhausting and probably making yourself hungry from reading all that, what is one crucial thing that’s missing? The answer is quite easy and obvious: KANIN!!!

Although rice is served in the cafeteria, it’s not the usual type that Pinoys are accustomed to eat. For us, rice is meant to be steamed and sticky. The rice they serve here, on the other hand, is grainy and paltry. You can even sort out individual grains if you want to. The experience is just not the same.

The next and last issue has something to do with the work shift. Although I was warned that we’re going to serve 12-hour shifts, I never imagined that the long hours would have such a miserable effect on me. I’m on duty by 6PM and do not get off until 6AM of the next day. And here’s the clincher: we never get day offs. In some e-mails that I have sent to some friends, I remarked how domestic helpers are even happier than I am – at least they get Sunday offs, you know. And I also rarely see the sunshine anymore. So this must be how graveyard-shift call boys and call girls feel after a hard night’s work (I’m talking about customer support personnel, and not the ones who frequent QC Memorial Circle and Quezon Avenue, you dirty mind, you.). 

The morning after my first shift, I slept for ten hours straight! And I didn’t even remember dreaming – I was that exhausted. When I woke up, depression crept into me as I realized that this was going to be my life for the next five years since my job contract says so. When mealtime came, I barely picked food from the vast selection as I had no appetite to eat at all. Maybe it was the volatile combination of seasickness and homesickness, but for someone who’s known to devour a fiesta’s worth of viands, I surprised even myself.

Again, I counted on Hans to shake me back to my senses. He told me that since I’m stuck in the ship anyway, there’s no use sulking at what I believe is my misfortune. You chose this path, he explained, and that I had to be responsible for my decisions. That’s so true. You know, this guy is unbelievable. He’s full of energy; I’ve never seen him sulk once since we arrived here in Polar Search. Compared to him, I’m but a dismal drama king who’s both spoiled and whiney at the same time.

I’ve traded the quasi-glamorous yuppie routine to experience the adventurous life of a marine geophysicist. Although I have to admit that I sorely miss my cubicle in 6750 Makati Ave., my friends who provide precious company during weekends, and simply the laidback pace of home, my seaboy stint may just do me some good. Well, isolation sometimes brings the better out of people, and I’m hoping that my new job would do just that.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 28th, 2006 at 1:36 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.