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Turbulent couple of weeks on the Bass Strait

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I hadn’t worked for two and a half months offshore as a cook, as my contract finished on the previous boat. During this time I went on a sacred site tour in UK, Journey of the Rose.

We went to one of our mother earth’s major energy portals, Stonehenge. We

followed the major earth energy that flows through the land, called laylines. (Some people know them as dragon lines.) These particular lines are named after St Michael and Mary.

I also spent 2 weeks in the south of France attending a sacred feminine retreat, focused on sacred sites of Mary Magdalene and the Cathars. (I’ll write more about these journeys later)


With being a casual worker, I never know when my next job or paycheck is going to come from. Two weeks being back in OZ, I was very grateful for the call for work and was offered a 5-week contract to work on the Bass Strait. I called this boat the bucket. We were a crew of 35.

The Bass strait is a wild stretch of water. I felt the goddess’s mood as wild, stormy and so powerful. I saw the sea spirits whirling and flicking on the whitecaps. Her colour is shiny deep blue and there’s moody grey skies. And “the air” is blowing freezing cold.


In the boat we’re getting slammed — pitching and rolling time and time again. It’s been difficult to cook, to keep my body balanced and solid on the decks to focus on the practical aspects of my job. Its been hopeless trying to sit and focus on meditation. My mind keeps getting distracted by the motion of the ocean.


We’ve had a lot of problems internally with the boat’s plumbing (like most boats). Inside the galley we are walking, working in gray water slopping from side to side with each roll of the swell. I’m trying to mop the mess up, and the squeegee bucket is rolling from side to side — nothing stays still. The chief cook is trying to get the finishing touches for dinner which is due in ten minutes — it’s such a massive mess. We were both on edge due to the potential of food poisoning issues, trying to sanitize the decks and serve dinner.


The chief engineer is telling us the 2-inch-sized lettuce leaf that’s covering the sinkhole is the cause of the problem. What a laugh… “Chuck some of this stuff down,” he says. “This will fix it…” It worked for a day, and then we are walking, working in grey water again. The drains are bubbling again.

But worse than that, the brasco (toilet) and bath in the hospital blew back the contents of the pooh farm on the boat, dripping from the deck head (ceiling). YUK YUK YUK!

The stench — everything — is just disgusting.


Three hours after the explosion of the pooh farm the integrated ratings (IRs) are still in a flap and wanting to pull straws or recommending their workmates who’s going in to clean up. Right at this point, I’m so glad I’m a cook.

Ha! I love the banter and humor on boats.


Then, one brave soul stepped forward from the masses, dressed in full personal protective clothing and full breathing apparatus gear with 5-inch thick rubber gloves and a shovel. Even with all of that protective gear, still — the poohy water from the deck head dropped down the back of his neck…  So gross! The poor man couldn’t stop washing himself and his hands. No matter how many times he cleaned them, he said he could still sense and feel the sewage on him.


What I have learnt working on supply boats in the oil and gas industry is that something always needs to be fixed, and it seems to happen while hundreds of miles offshore.

After that, it would be nice to say I got back into my rhythm of meditating and being of service to the oil devis, but no –there were more challenges of boat life to come…


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