The housekeeping crew from the Constellation offloaded five, forty-foot containers full of linen today. . . by hand. . . over a fifty-foot gangway. . .amidst a fiercely blowing wind. . . in a freezing cold rain. . .uphill. . . both ways. Five.
Unfortunately, the material was a little too sensitive to use the claw in this picture. . . that was reserved for the old mattresses.
I can't tell you how many boxes there were of sheets and duvets and bed covers and pillow cases and sheets and sheets and sheets. As my father would undoubtedly say, "A sheetload of sheets." Pretty impressive that they could do it and pretty unimpressive that I couldn't get a single one of those containers up to the top deck where the unloading would be easier. I'm gonna go ahead and blame the wind but we all know that a first rate logistics manager would have figured out a way.
In other news I scored three free beers on the pier today. I was rewarded in true truck-driver fashion by two different truck drivers. The first driver who ponied up the suds was the last truck of linen for the day and there was some serious question as to whether or not we were going to get him unloaded in a timely fashion. His paperwork was stuck in customs with the agent and I had about a hundred guys for the unloading waiting inside a spare forty-foot container during a decent rainstorm. I'm not kidding, unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me today but there was an empty container right next to the truck we were waiting to discharge so BB had the idea to open it up and let the guys wait inside. Awesome idea, crazy result. Literally one-hundred guys waiting inside a forty-footer. Strange days.
So, point is that customs clearance came through just in time and the housekeeping crew rocked the virtual Casbah and had that bad boy unloaded in less than an hour. Truck driver was so happy he stopped me in the driving rain before he pulled away and planted two cans of Grolsch into my hands. Sah-wheat.
Last beer was scored from an Italian trucker who arrived after five o'clock with mattresses. . . yup, mattresses. Anyway, we initially told him he wouldn't be discharged till tomorrow morning but pity was taken and we found a few extra guys to offload him. Some dirt, a good sweat and two empty (now full) containers later and we had one happy trucker on our hands. . . I dunn gone and gots me a Birra Meroni for that one. The Grolsch was warm but the Meroni was cold and it was the last stitch of real work I did today. It's the little things, ya know?
Guess I'm leading up to the inevitable statement of, "Boo-hoo. Woe is me. I'm tired and want to go to bed." But I ain't singin' no drinkin' song from "Jaws" and I'd really rather be up and kickin'. Too bad I have to be responsible for a while longer. Million things more to write but my eyes tell me that this is probably getting too long for my limited readers. Not that my readers are limited. . . except in number.
Time for a Grolsch. Cheers.
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