Life in My Hands

Warning: A bit of drama and plenty of self contemplation ahead...

NO, I did not just give birth. And no, I'm not pregnant either.

It's my job, what else?

What exactly do I do offshore anyway? Pick one:

1) Charm hapless guys to work -

2) Cook for the guys - I catch the fish myself and harpoon turtles, which taste great stewed in a claypot.

3) Offshore entertainer - I serenade men on a cheap karaoke set so they go to sleep happy, albeit slightly disturbed
4) As one of my friends put so eloquently - drive the "oil harvester". Yup, I operate a bad-ass machine with a drill bit the size of a Range Rover. Me and my mean machine, burrowing into dirt at 120 metres water depth, churning up rocks and occasionally accidentally grinding up a fossil or two.

Sorry. Heheh. (and there is no such thing as an oil harvester, or, at least I have not heard of one)

Actually, my work is to, well, give out work. I hate calling it telling the guys what to do, but that's essentially what I do offshore. I don't have the strength to open bolts the size of my fist, so I tell people to do it.

A big part of my job is also making sure people working here are safe. In a live plant, with gas everywhere, every job requires a Permit to Work. Something virtually unheard of if your job is a secretary, teacher, IT guy, eh? Imagine, needing to get permission to do work???

Well, offshore you do. We draw up a legally binding contract where everything needed to avoid certain injury is spelled out and then we sign on it. Like I said, it's legally binding, that's why we need the signatures.

Say, for example, Mr. Big Guy wants to replace a light bulb. So the contract will go something like this:

1) Mr. Big might get electrocuted while he unscrews the lightbulb - so shut off the power supply

2) Mr. Big might fall off the ladder should he reach too far - so assign someone to hold on to the ladder

3) Mr. Big might get blown away if the wind gets too strong - so check the weather forecast 1st

And I make sure that the power supply is shut off, the ladder and the partner are all in place. Then I sign the form. Oh, I try to influence the wind and rain too, not always with success.

I am the last one to sign off, the final gate, if you may. Work starts after that. If do not sign and the guy works, then it's his responsibility if anything happens. After I sign, it becomes mine.

At times, the sheer thought of life in my hands, at the stroke of a pen, overcomes me. You see, I have this innate eager to please, "chin-chai-lah" nature. The quissential Asian. It is natural for me to reason away people's bad behaviour. Maybe he doesn't know. Maybe he's having a bad day cos he just quarreled with his wife. I call it seeing the glass half full. :)

But this will not do offshore. You see, people tend to be lazy. And complacent.

"It's only for a short while, no need-lah."

"I have walk all the way back to isolate the power...nothing is going to happen, Miss, don't worry"

"Why don't you sign first, we'll take care of it later"

"I've been doing this for twenty years - no need to tell me lar (to themselves: you young disrespectful ungrateful know-nothing busybody- sometimes I can practically hear people think this)

Me (fake smile): Pls do this favour for me pls pls pls- and thank you for giving a damn about your own life. (what I really want to say: No wonder-lah you're still doing the same thing after 20 years)

It did not take me long to comprehend that that me being too flexible might also mean me signing a death warrant. *Damn drama!*

It was last week when it happenned. The guys were taking out one of our turbines and replacing it with a new one. The turbine weighs about 4 tons. The engineer, someone whom I deeply respect and have heard nothing but good things about, unscrewed the bolts from the base of the turbine support. Then he gave the go-ahead for one of his techs to unbolt the other side, located underneath the turbine. I saw it happenning - like slow motion - the 4-ton turbine slowly tilt downwards and I put my hand on the shoulder of the tech before he was to go underneath it. The turbine keeled over, and breaking its final support, and crashed down. Had the tech continued what he was doing, the turbine would have crushed his head and upper torso.

I could not sleep that night. We never really know, do we? Life, like some flickle butterfly, can seem to take off in a fleeting. I wondered how we could have avoided the fall in the first place. I wondered how to tackle the always conflicting voices in my head - should I tell him? I might lose his respect, he's THE expert, he should know better than me. I don't want people thinking of me as some kind of paranoid control freak who gets off telling people that they're doing things wrong.

I am no saint. And while I'd like to think that I genuinely care for the guys, I have to sign quite a number of permits in one day. It's difficult, not to mention tiring, to care for all of them. Plus there's always the bloody voices in my head. And always resistance. I want people to like me. Why the hell am I getting into a fight with someone to safeguard his life? Why in the world should I give a damn?

For very selfish reasons. Because I don't want the burden of guilt. Because I have read about too many real life cases where lives were lost or destroyed due to lack of control and precaution. Because I know you have a life, a family to feed back home, and I never want to be the one to face them and tell them that I did not do everything I could. Because, even thought we both don't like it, I am responsible for you. Ad I'll do my damn best to make sure that you're as safe as possible, even if you hate me for it. Even if I hate being hated.

So I'll do my best to cajole, wheedle and pretty please and (bloody) thank you to someone so he doesn't get too mad putting his safety stuff in place (it usually involves quite a lot of extra work). I might be a pain in the a**, but I'll try to be as nice a pain in the a** as possible, cos I'm young and trying impress upon people that I have a good attitude.

Just you wait till I rack up my years. Then, I might not be so nice. Heheh..

On the day I was supposed to come back to shore, the abovementioned tech came and shook hands with me, thanking me for "pulling him out". I almost cried there and then. Guess there are rewards for doing this.