Offshore on A Geek's Life

A different kind of the middle of nowhere

Thu, 20 Sep 2018 12:40:51 +0000

Image Source: Wikipedia

--- Nursing a double espresso in the Air France lounge at Charles De Gaulle, it’s the first time in a week that I get the chance to be by myself and reflect on what has been a whirlwind week. From being up at 5.00 am two Sundays ago (to catch an early flight westward from Heathrow to Abidjan via Paris), multiple flying stops to a number of offshore assets and then to this stop on the way back to normalcy, it has felt like a blur of perpetual motion. It has also, much against my natural bent, been a time spent overwhelmingly in the company of others - work colleagues, fellow travellers and the odd hustler looking to make a quick buck amongst others. With each change of location - Heathrow, Paris, Abidjan and offshore - there has been a progressive browning of my surroundings, one that means that by the time I arrive at the work site I am lost in a sea of similar faces. Not since my last job in this part of the world at the back end of 2008 have I found myself in this sort of surroundings; not in the minority but one face in a sea of similar faces.

The Diary: Notes From The Northern Isles

Tue, 19 Sep 2017 12:30:42 +0000

What could have been. Image Source

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It is in the middle of shovelling rice and chicken down my throat that just how similar to prison these cubby holes I pop into from time to time are. For one, there are a number of hoops to jump through to get here - in my case a 5.30am check-in followed by a fixed wing flight up to Scatsta in the Shetlands and then a further helicopter flight out to the platform - and the overwhelmingly maleness of everything, tattoos and all. There are also the shared rooms, the strict meal times and the restricted choices there tends to be for meals. The one statistic which goes against the prison narrative is perhaps the proportion of ethnic minorities in prison vis-a-vis the general population, but that is neither here nor there. And of course, we’re all out here by choice, getting paid a premium of sorts for the joy of being out here.

Weekly Photo Challenge - Danger

Wed, 03 May 2017 17:10:34 +0000

For the challenge, Danger. Rope Access inspections.. #Offshore

On My Return To the Middle of Nowhere

Sat, 08 Oct 2016 06:04:08 +0000

Back at the heliport for a trip offshore - the first time since March - it feels like a lifetime ago. The last time there was the pressure of my counterpart from the government regulator looking over my shoulder to deal with, this time the roles are reversed as I am the one asking questions of others. Waiting to be checked in, what strikes me is how empty the terminal looks. Spending one’s days in an office which was only recently re-stacked has somehow shielded me from the reality of just how much more reduced offshore activity has been over the last year.

About Town : On (yet another) return to the middle of nowhere

Tue, 08 Apr 2014 19:17:08 +0000

Wide awake, with not even a lingering hint of sleep to becloud my eyes, I pause to ponder the day that lies ahead of me. Difficult as it may be to wrap my head around them, the facts are what they are. It is very nearly six months since I last made the journey that lies ahead of me. Back then, LK was the developing conundrum, one that those days spent in the middle of nowhere ended up resolving, ultimately to my pain - not that I knew that at the time. My alarm snaps me out of my little reverie - I have a 6.00am check-in at the other end of town to contend with, and a 15 minute walk to catch the bus that will haul me across town - small margins for error given it is already 4.05am.

Journeying to the middle of nowhere

Thu, 30 May 2013 20:27:52 +0000

The one last, irrevocable act that settles the inevitability of these trips is the phone call, typically sometime between 3.30pm and 5.00pm, confirming a check-in time for the next day. Beyond that, it is a fairly straight forward routine - wake up just past 5.00am, sort out my morning ablutions and then proceed to drag my two pieces of luggage down Park Road, up Kings and up to the bus station just outside Union Square. Thereafter there is a wait - between five and twenty minutes depending on when I arrive - before the 727 to the airport begins its crawl towards Dyce and the airport.