Confession: I threw up for the first two days I was at sea on this lovely ole tug.
Thinking about how much more a tugboat feels sea conditions didn't even remotely factor into my decision making process when I took the job.
To be clear, I'd take the job again...I'd just be a little more prepared to feel every single ripple.
The first clue I was no longer on a ship hit me when we were tied up to the dock. I'd lay in my bunk and feel the boat rocking. I'd be standing in the wheelhouse and I'd have to catch my footing for a second. At the dock. In a sheltered harbor. With a breakwater.
Getting underway we headed into about a four foot swell.
To say the vessel pitched would be a mild understatement. We felt every single wave.
My body REVOLTED.
During my first watch I had to run to the head and toss my cookies twice. My relief showed up on the bridge and as I was giving my turnover I had to blurt, 'oh my god I'm gonna be sick'....and RUN off the bridge to make it to the head.
This kept up for two solid days until I felt like I could barely move (and my shipmates looked at me with pity and / or disgust)...and then I started to feel better really slowly.
I'm now at the 45 day mark. Most days I'm golden but sometimes, if we hit the swell just right I'm wishing I could be somewhere else.
We've also had phenomenal weather so I'm a little worried that my cookie tossing days aren't over.
Note to self: tugs move A LOT. Pack Dramamine and ginger chews.