The Merchant Marine Express

I’ve managed to settle into my new role as medical officer! One of my primary duties attached with being a third mate, navigational mate and cargo mate is one of helping crewmembers with their injuries as the designated medical officer. I am the first person a mariner seeks if any injury is sustained, while onboard the ship.

And almost after the first few hours of signing on, I was called to help an individual who required the assistance to diagnose a foot injury.
Apparently, the Able Seaman sprained his foot while walking up one of the many steps, throughout the ship. The metal, with rusted edges and dingy
surfaces make for possible dangers lurking and a emergency just waiting to happen. It’s crucial that extra caution is placed when and where you place
your foot or reach your arm for support, while transiting this nearly thirty-year old ship. The sea salt has encrusted much of the paint work on
deck with cancerous spots of rust that might cause a foot to trip upon or an article of clothing to snag and rip. This is why painting and chipping of
rust is a never-ending job on board.

This case of injury wasn’t necessarily one that I had to administer much aid, since our transits enable a crewmember to make a shore visit to a
nearby clinic. However, this case required the crewmember, once diagnosed with the foot injury, to nurse his foot back to normal; but with the
requirement to keep the foot off the decks for a minimum of two weeks.

The captain would not be able to keep the mariner on board for this duration, and ultimately had to sign the mariner off and fly the helpless man back
home. My job as medical officer, too, was to write a timeline for the incident and keep record of any witnesses and make an investigation for the
company’s sake and ensure the facts were in order. The whole process required many hours of focus and reviewing of facts that were written by
both thr patient, and myself before a final draft was approved by the master. In all, almost ten hours were logged of time spent completing this
case.

And you ask, where do I live? I’m in the hospital! Yes, the small eight by eight foot room seems a bit too sterile of an environment for living arrangements, as cabinets of prescriptions, and other tools for first aid are locked and sit perched on every wall surrounding the narrow, ‘double
bed’ with just a television on the opposite counter top to indicate that this space is intended for living arrangements. And too,I wonder, if someone
really needs the bed for treatment, where shall I go for rest?

Moving on..The last load of cargo went fast, and with hardly any of the delays we’ve normally encountered while in Louisiana. The Citgo refinery has
commonly had problems attaining constant pressure of the vapor system, and once this pressure is lost, a shutdown of cargo is required. This situation
only occurred a couple of times, during the load this time, with minimal time lost as thankfully, the dock was most efficient in their loading
process.

A timed event, the loading of cargo typically runs for duration of about twenty-four to thirty hours. This near record load of only twenty
hours for the nearly two hundred fifty thousand barrels of cargo received was the sure ticket that enabled our sail time for the return voyage back to
Tampa, a measly week turn around.

Only one last thing to note about loading of cargo, however, that did cause a bit of drama was the fact while finishing up the loading of diesel, it is
required that the pump pressure is reduced nearing the end of the load cycle so that the rush of fluid doesn’t cause undesirable pressure on the hoses
and pipes. Well, while topping off the diesel fuel into the last tank, I made a verbal request via the hand held radio, to the dock to reduce pressure that never happened as the dock man inadvertently shut off the wrong product and thus, the wrong set of hoses were affected. The pressure
quickly rose to a dangerous level for a brief moment causing the Chief Mate to yell at the dock person for a shut down, yet nothing was being done!
Critical seconds passed and things were looking grim!

And for a brief moment, the look of shock was evident in the eyes of all involved, including yours truly, as we were helpless with the control
being in the hands of the dock worker and their ability to shutdown cargo flow at the valve wheel. The pressure at the manifold shot up to a unfathomable two hundred pounds pressure, twice the normal loading rate as you could hear the rush of liquid similar to a loud growl.
And just as quickly as it started, the dock man overrode the pump, as he turned the valve wheel closed, automatically shutting off the pump supplying
cargo to that particular hose. We over filled past our intended ‘mark’ but didn’t cause any over flow, nor did we spill any cargo. As we swallowed our
pride, we moved on to other tanks requiring attention.

Folks, Have a great day!

Tags: Chemical Explorer