Howzit blog followers?! I struggled with what to write about for more than a few days. Truthfully, I attempted to avoid blogging all together. Playing dead, running away (but the ship is only 224 feet long) and acting like I didn’t speak English all failed. Finally some increasingly less friendly reminders from my coworkers and a single blank spot on the blog calendar for over a week forced me to cave and jot down my name.
Last week an announcement was made at our morning meeting that at our current consumption rate of one bag of coffee per day, we were 5 days away from being completely tapped out and more than two weeks from getting back home. For some, this was no big deal. For me and my fellow coffee junkies, this was like a kick to…yeah.
Anyway it got me thinking, as I savored one of the last hot cups of joe that would cross my lips for weeks to come, that this is one of those situations that is unique to the kind of work we do. Sure we have run out of fruits and vegetables plenty of times…no problem, I’ll go to the farmer’s market when I get home. I’ve seen the ice cream bin empty one week into a 2 month cruise, whatever, no need. But coffee? Come on! Even prisoners get coffee!!
Divers Erin Looney and Hailey Ramey enjoy the last few minutes of breakfast in the aft mess chatting with Chief Cook Lydell Reed and Doc Joe Harris before heading out for another day of diving at Lisianski.
Maybe your favorite neighborhood coffee shop is closed for renovations for a few days and you are forced to go to the mega-chain on every corner for your morning fix. Ok. One cup hopefully won’t kill the rainforest. Your caffeine need is satiated and you are off to continue your day. Aboard a ship 1000+ miles from the nearest city, alternate options like that don’t exist.
Frank Mancini, hard at work deploying a subsurface temperature recorder.
Thankfully a few days later another case of coffee was found in the stores and the potential mutiny was squashed. I cannot say that I am getting any less grumpy in morning, but at least my mug is full and my hand is warm while I watch the sun rise out of the ocean each morning with one bleary eye open.