Yesterday was our first day back after the turnaround. It started with our usual 'toolbox talk' where we discuss job hazards and work plans for the day. However yesterday they came in and showed us some nice 'Thyssen Krupp' (the primary contractor we subcontract under) golf jackets and asked each of us for our size. Something was feeling a little fishy!
So no one was surprised when they made a little announcement a few minutes later about a pretty major change. They have decided that instead of the 14/7 shift that we have been running on we will now be running on a 24/7! It was a bit of a shock to say the least!
The implications of this change are varied. Obviously with the job board at the union hall full and the hall itself empty there will be a lot of people who won't come back after the turn. Not me though. I am an apprentice and as such am indentured to my current employer. I would stay anyway. We will be earning a lot more money which we need and I will be stock piling the hours which I need to get into the course at NAIT this fall which will raise me from a first year apprentice to a second year apprentice. It will also raise my pay level a lot.
At the moment I am paid $20/hr which is 1/2 the journeyman rate of $40/hr and change. As we are raised in 10% increments that means each step is worth just over $4/hr. So at the end of this month when I am done 3 months my rate goes up from $20/hr to $24/hr which is first year apprentice rate. Once I have the hours (1500) in a d take the 8 week course I will be a second year apprentice and will be at $28/hr and change. So this is my goal and the current arrangement will help me reach it sooner.
Apart from that I will miss my family. I will not be there to transplant my seedlings into 4" pots. I will get home the day of my Dad's birthday instead of before it where I can get home something. I will have to be sure to get my laundry done each week. Etc. But all is good and I am happy. :)
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
On the train
Its been a while since my last post. I am still an Ironworkers and have just finished my week at home. It is 8 in the morning and I am on the train to Ottawa which is where I catch the plane to Albian and then the bus to Wapasu Camp.
I like the train. I travel on Via Rail. They have comfortable seats and free Internet. I always get a window seat as there is a plug for my iPhone so that I can keep charged up. They also have a little food trolley from which they serve coffee and minor refreshments. So it is all winning for me and costs about the same as the gas it would cost for Julie to drive me.
The route is pleasant as the little train winds it's way to Ottawa. It runs down the edge of lake. From Cobourg where I board it heads east until Brockville and then orth through Smith Falls and on into Ottawa. The total trip is about 3:15 start to finish.
As I know the route quite well I often daydream while looking out the window. So I only sort of see the familiar places along the way. I think a lot about work while heading east and a out home when I take the train the other direction. It seems pretty natural.
Today I am not thinking as much about work as usual. Instead I am thinking about my garden. Over my week off I planted close to 200 seeds in little peat pots in anticipation of this summer's garden. A great number of those plants are tomatoes of about 25 varieties. Some I got from the grocery stare as part of the produce. This includes my Roma paste tomatoes which came to my house packaged in the tomato itself. Some I harvested the seeds from plants that I grew last year (tiny Tim's, pink ladies, etc). Some I harvested from fruit that was given to me by people in the community garden last year (Dr. Wyches, Oxhearts, Scotias, etc). Some came from seed packs that I saw in stores (Red Brandywines, Sweeties, etc). Finally some I ordered online through different sites. These include Fred Limbaugh Potato-tops, Striped Cavern paste tomatoes, Tiger's Eye paste, Black Cherrys, Sweet Virginias, etc. So far more tomatoes than I will ever eat personally.
The fact is that I don't eat many tomatoes at all! Seriously, the odd one in a salad and some on a BLT when they are ripe. You might wonder why I am clearly obsessed with growing the fruit that looks like a vegetable. So let me explain it to you.
There are probably three main reasons why I grow tomatoes. The first has to do with my Granny on the Knight side. When I was a boy of ten I wanted to grow a garden. My parents didn't garden in those days and we had very little money. So I went to my Granny who lived with us and asked her to give me the money for a hoe. She agreed on condition that I grow her some tomatoes. So I planted a couple Long with several other vegetables. I should point out that in those days I wouldn't eat a tomato if you paid me. So where I picked away at all the other things which I tried growing and stunted them severely in the process my tomatoes were unharassed and turned out beautifully.
A second reason with my growing so many tomatoes is my obsessive and curious nature. I read about various tomato varieties and get curious. Then I simply have to try them. An example is my Fred Limbaugh Potato-tops. I read an article online about this guy who was a fourth generation grower of a variety that was developed in the first of those generations. Each generation grew more than they needed and so gave seeds or little plants to anyone who was interested. The last guy, Fred Limbaugh, had been following in the footsteps of his forbearers despite the fact that he personally never ate tomatoes! The fruit he produced was a large beefsteak variety with lots of resistance to wilt and what was described as a smoky flavour that would make a great BLT even with no bacon! So the story sold me and I had to have some. Curiosity and obsession drive a lot of what I do.
Finally, I simply like to be generous. I like to give away things and summer-fresh tomatoes are usually well received. I am growing all sizes and shapes and colours. So I can give lots away and it doesn't cost much to do it. I will be making and jarring a lot of salsa. I love making pasta sauce so I will make lots of that too but being generous with my produce appeals to me.
Another aspect of my obsession which satisfies my need to be generous is in giving away the plants themselves. I love putting a few plants into my mother's yard so that she and my Dad can have fresh tomatoes daily. Over half of my stock are 'determinate' meaning that they only grow from one to three feet tall and then start pounding out the fruit. These varieties are ideal for growing in a flower pot and they tend to require no pruning. So you just water them and away you go. That makes them good gifts for people who only have time to water their produce.
Well that's my tomatoe obsession in a nutshell. And that's what I have been thinking a out while on the train. I can't wait for the end of this work turnaround to see how many have come up! I have them in a window at the moment but will have to get lights on them when they break through the soil. But that will be next turn around. :)
I like the train. I travel on Via Rail. They have comfortable seats and free Internet. I always get a window seat as there is a plug for my iPhone so that I can keep charged up. They also have a little food trolley from which they serve coffee and minor refreshments. So it is all winning for me and costs about the same as the gas it would cost for Julie to drive me.
The route is pleasant as the little train winds it's way to Ottawa. It runs down the edge of lake. From Cobourg where I board it heads east until Brockville and then orth through Smith Falls and on into Ottawa. The total trip is about 3:15 start to finish.
As I know the route quite well I often daydream while looking out the window. So I only sort of see the familiar places along the way. I think a lot about work while heading east and a out home when I take the train the other direction. It seems pretty natural.
Today I am not thinking as much about work as usual. Instead I am thinking about my garden. Over my week off I planted close to 200 seeds in little peat pots in anticipation of this summer's garden. A great number of those plants are tomatoes of about 25 varieties. Some I got from the grocery stare as part of the produce. This includes my Roma paste tomatoes which came to my house packaged in the tomato itself. Some I harvested the seeds from plants that I grew last year (tiny Tim's, pink ladies, etc). Some I harvested from fruit that was given to me by people in the community garden last year (Dr. Wyches, Oxhearts, Scotias, etc). Some came from seed packs that I saw in stores (Red Brandywines, Sweeties, etc). Finally some I ordered online through different sites. These include Fred Limbaugh Potato-tops, Striped Cavern paste tomatoes, Tiger's Eye paste, Black Cherrys, Sweet Virginias, etc. So far more tomatoes than I will ever eat personally.
The fact is that I don't eat many tomatoes at all! Seriously, the odd one in a salad and some on a BLT when they are ripe. You might wonder why I am clearly obsessed with growing the fruit that looks like a vegetable. So let me explain it to you.
There are probably three main reasons why I grow tomatoes. The first has to do with my Granny on the Knight side. When I was a boy of ten I wanted to grow a garden. My parents didn't garden in those days and we had very little money. So I went to my Granny who lived with us and asked her to give me the money for a hoe. She agreed on condition that I grow her some tomatoes. So I planted a couple Long with several other vegetables. I should point out that in those days I wouldn't eat a tomato if you paid me. So where I picked away at all the other things which I tried growing and stunted them severely in the process my tomatoes were unharassed and turned out beautifully.
A second reason with my growing so many tomatoes is my obsessive and curious nature. I read about various tomato varieties and get curious. Then I simply have to try them. An example is my Fred Limbaugh Potato-tops. I read an article online about this guy who was a fourth generation grower of a variety that was developed in the first of those generations. Each generation grew more than they needed and so gave seeds or little plants to anyone who was interested. The last guy, Fred Limbaugh, had been following in the footsteps of his forbearers despite the fact that he personally never ate tomatoes! The fruit he produced was a large beefsteak variety with lots of resistance to wilt and what was described as a smoky flavour that would make a great BLT even with no bacon! So the story sold me and I had to have some. Curiosity and obsession drive a lot of what I do.
Finally, I simply like to be generous. I like to give away things and summer-fresh tomatoes are usually well received. I am growing all sizes and shapes and colours. So I can give lots away and it doesn't cost much to do it. I will be making and jarring a lot of salsa. I love making pasta sauce so I will make lots of that too but being generous with my produce appeals to me.
Another aspect of my obsession which satisfies my need to be generous is in giving away the plants themselves. I love putting a few plants into my mother's yard so that she and my Dad can have fresh tomatoes daily. Over half of my stock are 'determinate' meaning that they only grow from one to three feet tall and then start pounding out the fruit. These varieties are ideal for growing in a flower pot and they tend to require no pruning. So you just water them and away you go. That makes them good gifts for people who only have time to water their produce.
Well that's my tomatoe obsession in a nutshell. And that's what I have been thinking a out while on the train. I can't wait for the end of this work turnaround to see how many have come up! I have them in a window at the moment but will have to get lights on them when they break through the soil. But that will be next turn around. :)
Saturday, March 17, 2012
And I got to weld too!
Today was pretty exciting. I mean we were doing work that the boys on my crew probably found pretty humdrum but as pretty much everything is new to me I am really enjoying it. For the past two days we have been doing a shake-out of the steel wear plates that will eventually find their way into our surge bins.
A shake out is when you take the steel pieces from their bundles and get it ready to be rigged-in and installed. In our case it involves fitting a lifting lug onto each piece, welding it into place and then marking and stacking the pieces in an organized way.
Looking downstream in my iron working career I can see myself as a welder/fitter. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when the lead hand said from the word go that I was going to get training as a fitter! I thought he would get me to do one or two and then hand it over to someone with more experience (like anyone on the crew for instance as they are all welders. But instead he has had me doing ALL of the fitting so far. I know that this fitting is pretty rudimentary and has miles of room for error but it is fitting just the same!
Nearing the end of the day my senior Foreman came over to watch. After a while he called me over and asked if I had welded anything yet. 'No' I answered. So he said 'go get a welding helmet and get one of the guys to show you how.'. Of course I almost fell over and died! So off to the tool crib I went and when I returned I had a welding helmet in tow.
Now I would love to tell you that I took to it like a duck to water but that wasn't the case. Instead I was given a piece of angle iron and shown how to make a pass along the seam. When it was my turn I made a ton of mistakes including sticking my welding rod to the metal and being unable to retrieve it! Still, it was a start! All the carrying and fetching and shovelling that I have just done without question has proven to be a worthwhile investment. All the crew were there putting in their two cents worth and encouraging me along. God it was great!!!
As it was the end of the day we didn't have much time. But I was promised that tomorrow I would not only get to try again but would also get to weld lugs that I had fit onto the wear plate! The good news gets even better when you consider that we will be on this duty until our turn around so I should be able to practise for the next 4 days!!! I am not getting ahead of myself and assuming that my role will now change. I am a pre-apprentice still so carrying things and lifting stuff and climbing stairs and shovelling will still be my daily lot in life. But I have tasted the action and I am excited to do it again!
A shake out is when you take the steel pieces from their bundles and get it ready to be rigged-in and installed. In our case it involves fitting a lifting lug onto each piece, welding it into place and then marking and stacking the pieces in an organized way.
Looking downstream in my iron working career I can see myself as a welder/fitter. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when the lead hand said from the word go that I was going to get training as a fitter! I thought he would get me to do one or two and then hand it over to someone with more experience (like anyone on the crew for instance as they are all welders. But instead he has had me doing ALL of the fitting so far. I know that this fitting is pretty rudimentary and has miles of room for error but it is fitting just the same!
Nearing the end of the day my senior Foreman came over to watch. After a while he called me over and asked if I had welded anything yet. 'No' I answered. So he said 'go get a welding helmet and get one of the guys to show you how.'. Of course I almost fell over and died! So off to the tool crib I went and when I returned I had a welding helmet in tow.
Now I would love to tell you that I took to it like a duck to water but that wasn't the case. Instead I was given a piece of angle iron and shown how to make a pass along the seam. When it was my turn I made a ton of mistakes including sticking my welding rod to the metal and being unable to retrieve it! Still, it was a start! All the carrying and fetching and shovelling that I have just done without question has proven to be a worthwhile investment. All the crew were there putting in their two cents worth and encouraging me along. God it was great!!!
As it was the end of the day we didn't have much time. But I was promised that tomorrow I would not only get to try again but would also get to weld lugs that I had fit onto the wear plate! The good news gets even better when you consider that we will be on this duty until our turn around so I should be able to practise for the next 4 days!!! I am not getting ahead of myself and assuming that my role will now change. I am a pre-apprentice still so carrying things and lifting stuff and climbing stairs and shovelling will still be my daily lot in life. But I have tasted the action and I am excited to do it again!
Wapasu Lodge aka Camp Kearl
I just wanted to say a few things about our camp that we stay in. It is called Wapasu Lodge and is operated by the PTI group that I think is a subsidiary of Fluor Daniels. It has 3 wings (East, Main and West) and houses around 6000 people at any one time. These people include employees and management from all of the various companies who work up here as well as the staff and management who run the joint. So quite a varied group.
Most of the people here are men. There are women but they are far less in number so maybe 15-20% of the total (my estimate). We live in long mobile home type units that are stacked 3 high with each broken into about 40 units. The units are about 8'x12' and are furnished with a wardrobe (with hardware for a lock that you supply yourself), a dresser, a bed and small built in desk with chair. There is also a sink with vanity in the corner and a television installed over the dresser.
Regarding washrooms you have to share with your neighbor. The toilet and shower are in a little hall type thing between your unit and your immediate neighbor's unit. It is a space only slightly wider than the toilet with the camode at one end and the stand up shower at the other. The shower head is a crappy thing that sprays what amounts to mist so anyone who has been here before brings their own and swaps it out for their stay. They just have to be sure that they hide the old shower head in their locked wardrobe or housekeeping will take it and then charge you for replacing it when you finish your stay and then take yours home wih you.
Each camp has 2 kitchens for eating dinner in, 2 bag up rooms for packing your lunch in, a cardio room, a weight room, and several common rooms that are used for open jam night (some of the boys bring guitars and play country music), karaoke night, yoga, judo, or for watching the UFC fights. There is also a snack room that has coffee, soup and some minor deserts and is open 24/7. The front foyer of each camp has a couple of staff on at all times, an ATM machine, tv's on the wall, a small convenience store, etc. In the main camp they also have a Tim Hortons Donut and coffee shop. So all the basics are there.
I mentioned that there are 3 wings. They are laid out in a horse shoe shape and each has a 'brass alley' leading to the buses that stage in the middle. The buses come and go in coordinated waves. All bus activity is regulated by the red 'x' or the green check mark over the alley doors that tell you whether you can go through or not. If one is watching from a distance they would see the lines slowly forming on one side of the alley as the workers queue together followed by a tsunami-like outpouring as the sign turns green and everyone rushes to get a good seat on their respective buses. If you are at the end of your line your bus may be full and then you have to catch the overflow bus which leaves 10 minutes later and may get you to work after the start time. If you are past the prescribed time and the light clicks red you are in some trouble. You then have 3 options: 1) call in sick; 2) call work and they may send someone to pick you up; 3) wait for the later bus and arrive just before lunch. All of these options suck so one wants to be at the bus line early if possible.
I have to run now as we are almost there!
Most of the people here are men. There are women but they are far less in number so maybe 15-20% of the total (my estimate). We live in long mobile home type units that are stacked 3 high with each broken into about 40 units. The units are about 8'x12' and are furnished with a wardrobe (with hardware for a lock that you supply yourself), a dresser, a bed and small built in desk with chair. There is also a sink with vanity in the corner and a television installed over the dresser.
Regarding washrooms you have to share with your neighbor. The toilet and shower are in a little hall type thing between your unit and your immediate neighbor's unit. It is a space only slightly wider than the toilet with the camode at one end and the stand up shower at the other. The shower head is a crappy thing that sprays what amounts to mist so anyone who has been here before brings their own and swaps it out for their stay. They just have to be sure that they hide the old shower head in their locked wardrobe or housekeeping will take it and then charge you for replacing it when you finish your stay and then take yours home wih you.
Each camp has 2 kitchens for eating dinner in, 2 bag up rooms for packing your lunch in, a cardio room, a weight room, and several common rooms that are used for open jam night (some of the boys bring guitars and play country music), karaoke night, yoga, judo, or for watching the UFC fights. There is also a snack room that has coffee, soup and some minor deserts and is open 24/7. The front foyer of each camp has a couple of staff on at all times, an ATM machine, tv's on the wall, a small convenience store, etc. In the main camp they also have a Tim Hortons Donut and coffee shop. So all the basics are there.
I mentioned that there are 3 wings. They are laid out in a horse shoe shape and each has a 'brass alley' leading to the buses that stage in the middle. The buses come and go in coordinated waves. All bus activity is regulated by the red 'x' or the green check mark over the alley doors that tell you whether you can go through or not. If one is watching from a distance they would see the lines slowly forming on one side of the alley as the workers queue together followed by a tsunami-like outpouring as the sign turns green and everyone rushes to get a good seat on their respective buses. If you are at the end of your line your bus may be full and then you have to catch the overflow bus which leaves 10 minutes later and may get you to work after the start time. If you are past the prescribed time and the light clicks red you are in some trouble. You then have 3 options: 1) call in sick; 2) call work and they may send someone to pick you up; 3) wait for the later bus and arrive just before lunch. All of these options suck so one wants to be at the bus line early if possible.
I have to run now as we are almost there!
A letter to my Dad about fitting...
Dear Dad;
It's Friday and I am on the bus home. The sun is just going down but the sky is bright and beautiful. It was a warm day after several cold ones. All good.
Yesterday we found out first thing in the morning that the company Driver needed to work on the conveyor head that sits 100 feet above our bins so for the next 2 weeks we are not allowed in the bins. On the surface it looks like a reasonable request from another supplier on site but in fact it is a squeeze play. Driver is a main competitor to Waiward and rather than using union labour they use CLAC which is an 'association' which is a fancy excuse for scab labour. And this is part of the big companies battling the unions. CLAC by the way stands for the Christian Labour Association of Canada. It has been my experience that people who start companies with Jesus' name in it do so to pick the pockets of the gullible and this is no exception. We can agree to disagree on that score if you like.
In the meantime it meant that I was doing something different than normal today. The crew that I was put on is doing a 'steel Shake-out'. That means that we take the bundled steel for whatever the job is and get it ready for installation. The process involves organizing it, bolting or fitting it, and getting it into a position to be easily rigged into location and then installed.
Today's work is with wear plates that line our bins and over the next 3 years slowly wear out at which point they are changed. I was fortunate because a 30 year member who is in charge of the job is teaching me how to 'fit'. This involves making anything fit together even if some dough head completely messed up the piece during the manufacturing process. In my case it involves fitting lugs to the wear plates that will be used to lift the plates into the bin. The fitting is important as the load balance which results from either a good fit or from a bad fit determines the success and safety of the rig-in. I am really interested in fitting because I see it as a valid future career for me at my age. In buildings like the surge bin it is a key process as it is the bending and warping of the huge plate which make up the bins so that the seams have a perfect fit which can then be permanently welded. Fitters work with welders very closely. Generally the fitter uses 'dogs' and 'wedges'. He welds the dog (as steel square with a square cut out of one corner) to the top or bottom plate, inserts the steel wedge into the cut out corner and then he pounds it with a sledge hammer until the plate warps a little closer together. I guess it is true that with a large enough lever you really can move the world! So I have been very happy to be doing rudimentary fitting.
I have to go as the bus has just pulled into camp. I hope that all is well with you and Mum. I look forward to seeing you in a few days and to helping you in any way I can with the office relo. And who know? Maybe we will get to tie and possibly even cast some flies as well.
Lots of love! Peter xo
It's Friday and I am on the bus home. The sun is just going down but the sky is bright and beautiful. It was a warm day after several cold ones. All good.
Yesterday we found out first thing in the morning that the company Driver needed to work on the conveyor head that sits 100 feet above our bins so for the next 2 weeks we are not allowed in the bins. On the surface it looks like a reasonable request from another supplier on site but in fact it is a squeeze play. Driver is a main competitor to Waiward and rather than using union labour they use CLAC which is an 'association' which is a fancy excuse for scab labour. And this is part of the big companies battling the unions. CLAC by the way stands for the Christian Labour Association of Canada. It has been my experience that people who start companies with Jesus' name in it do so to pick the pockets of the gullible and this is no exception. We can agree to disagree on that score if you like.
In the meantime it meant that I was doing something different than normal today. The crew that I was put on is doing a 'steel Shake-out'. That means that we take the bundled steel for whatever the job is and get it ready for installation. The process involves organizing it, bolting or fitting it, and getting it into a position to be easily rigged into location and then installed.
Today's work is with wear plates that line our bins and over the next 3 years slowly wear out at which point they are changed. I was fortunate because a 30 year member who is in charge of the job is teaching me how to 'fit'. This involves making anything fit together even if some dough head completely messed up the piece during the manufacturing process. In my case it involves fitting lugs to the wear plates that will be used to lift the plates into the bin. The fitting is important as the load balance which results from either a good fit or from a bad fit determines the success and safety of the rig-in. I am really interested in fitting because I see it as a valid future career for me at my age. In buildings like the surge bin it is a key process as it is the bending and warping of the huge plate which make up the bins so that the seams have a perfect fit which can then be permanently welded. Fitters work with welders very closely. Generally the fitter uses 'dogs' and 'wedges'. He welds the dog (as steel square with a square cut out of one corner) to the top or bottom plate, inserts the steel wedge into the cut out corner and then he pounds it with a sledge hammer until the plate warps a little closer together. I guess it is true that with a large enough lever you really can move the world! So I have been very happy to be doing rudimentary fitting.
I have to go as the bus has just pulled into camp. I hope that all is well with you and Mum. I look forward to seeing you in a few days and to helping you in any way I can with the office relo. And who know? Maybe we will get to tie and possibly even cast some flies as well.
Lots of love! Peter xo
Friday, March 16, 2012
A little bit of me...
While I was sitting out in the cold yesterday I had some time to reflect on how I got here to Kearl and the iron working profession in general. It was not only cold but there was a cutting wind which was not exactly what they had forecast that morning when I was dressing! Once upon a time I was set for a life of domesticity. Set up for but not exactly ideal for. Something in my personal makeup ensured that I wouldn't succeed in that world. Something that I had been semi conscious of from way back before my memories even began.
I come from a long line of people infected with travel-lust. Simply being a Canadian proves that to some extent as everyone here came from somewhere else originally with the exception of our first nations peoples. Beyond that I was raised on family legends about great-great grandparents who were missionaries to Chine, Great grandparents who started out owning a tea plantation in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) and who upon losing their fortune moved to Moosemin Saskatchewan. Another Great Grandfatber came to Canada as a young man a d made a fortune establishing a hugely successful commercial bakery. In the Grandfather level both served during that great overseas adventure that they called World War 2. And then there's my Dad.
When I was growing up we moved constantly. I never went to the same school for more than 2 years in a row until I started grad school! Dad was an entrepreneur which I grew up thinking was a French word for a shitty businessman! To his. Refit he never gave up and was eventually quite successful. He worked in International Development, speaks 4 languages (English, French, Portuguese, and Russian). He brainstormed and led the project to set up a stock market in Ghana, worked at central banks around the world, wrote a book about Credit Union management and another on Zero-base budgeting. He also started and successfully ran an international development company which, in his mid 70's he is currently selling. As you can see the familial influence was to explore and not to stay put. We have tumbleweed blood and staying in once place eats at us. An odd mix of. Predominant and curiosity makes staying and becoming successful in one place an impossibility.
My personal fantasies when I was young were influenced by the great outdoors. While in school I devoured. Looks about Gray Owl, Canadian First Nations, survival in the wilds, stories by Jack London and Robert Service and so on. We lived in Mississauga from the time I was 8 to 10 years of age. I personally spent most of my waking hours in the woods across the street. And then there was St. John's School.
I'll tell you about that tomorrow. I can see the surge bin that I currently work in breaking the cold Alberta horizon so I have to pack this in for another day. Cheers.
I come from a long line of people infected with travel-lust. Simply being a Canadian proves that to some extent as everyone here came from somewhere else originally with the exception of our first nations peoples. Beyond that I was raised on family legends about great-great grandparents who were missionaries to Chine, Great grandparents who started out owning a tea plantation in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) and who upon losing their fortune moved to Moosemin Saskatchewan. Another Great Grandfatber came to Canada as a young man a d made a fortune establishing a hugely successful commercial bakery. In the Grandfather level both served during that great overseas adventure that they called World War 2. And then there's my Dad.
When I was growing up we moved constantly. I never went to the same school for more than 2 years in a row until I started grad school! Dad was an entrepreneur which I grew up thinking was a French word for a shitty businessman! To his. Refit he never gave up and was eventually quite successful. He worked in International Development, speaks 4 languages (English, French, Portuguese, and Russian). He brainstormed and led the project to set up a stock market in Ghana, worked at central banks around the world, wrote a book about Credit Union management and another on Zero-base budgeting. He also started and successfully ran an international development company which, in his mid 70's he is currently selling. As you can see the familial influence was to explore and not to stay put. We have tumbleweed blood and staying in once place eats at us. An odd mix of. Predominant and curiosity makes staying and becoming successful in one place an impossibility.
My personal fantasies when I was young were influenced by the great outdoors. While in school I devoured. Looks about Gray Owl, Canadian First Nations, survival in the wilds, stories by Jack London and Robert Service and so on. We lived in Mississauga from the time I was 8 to 10 years of age. I personally spent most of my waking hours in the woods across the street. And then there was St. John's School.
I'll tell you about that tomorrow. I can see the surge bin that I currently work in breaking the cold Alberta horizon so I have to pack this in for another day. Cheers.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Bus Rides
When you work at Kearl Lake everything in your life is regulated by the ebbs and flows of the busses. You fly into Albion Airstrip and the first thing you do is climb onto a bus. And when I say the first thing I mean it. You don't even get to stop for a smoke and as some of these guys got on in Newfoundland a lifetime before it can get a little tense. But you do as you're told or they send you home. Just imagine 200+ grumpy tradesmen marching chain-gang style from plane to bus and you will get the picture.
the busses move slowly here as the roads are not paved and even at the mandatory snail-pace it's not uncommon to see vehicles in the ditch. Probably the driver fell asleep at the pace but not necessarily. The roads are also crowned and have a steep drop-off at the sides meaning the if you veer at all to the side of the road the ditch will suck you up. It often snows heavily and the road clearing crews amaze with their incompetance so finding the 'safe' middle of the road is a challenge.
As I mentioned before the buses move slowly. They don't often make it to 50km/hr and when moving around the camp's perimeter (they go around the camp's entire perimeter whenever they return to camp) they must never go over 20km/hr or the driver is suspended for 14 days! So after a very long day you get back to camp and have 15 minutes added to the drive via the scenic route!
The busses stage in a huge parking lot between the west and east camps right in front of Wapasu Main. Between the camps and the buses is 'brass alley' which is a very long trade or two for each with 25 or so doors each side-by-side. Each is a separate hall (walls only waist high) with a turn style that you must 'brass through'. That means swiping your card to make the turn style work. As most of the workers have their swipe cards on a lanyard around their necks they have to bend at the waist in order to achieve that. And as there is a Somali security guard in the 'alley' furthest to the left an observer might get the impression that we were all bowing to him. Once through brass alley we then climb onto our busses and wait for the 'take off' order from the head bus person. In the meantime the buses inevitably fill up with carbon monoxide from the 30 odd buses staging there making everyone, including the driver) a little dozy. This is possibly another good reason for mandating such slow speeds!
Gotta go as we are just pulling up!
the busses move slowly here as the roads are not paved and even at the mandatory snail-pace it's not uncommon to see vehicles in the ditch. Probably the driver fell asleep at the pace but not necessarily. The roads are also crowned and have a steep drop-off at the sides meaning the if you veer at all to the side of the road the ditch will suck you up. It often snows heavily and the road clearing crews amaze with their incompetance so finding the 'safe' middle of the road is a challenge.
As I mentioned before the buses move slowly. They don't often make it to 50km/hr and when moving around the camp's perimeter (they go around the camp's entire perimeter whenever they return to camp) they must never go over 20km/hr or the driver is suspended for 14 days! So after a very long day you get back to camp and have 15 minutes added to the drive via the scenic route!
The busses stage in a huge parking lot between the west and east camps right in front of Wapasu Main. Between the camps and the buses is 'brass alley' which is a very long trade or two for each with 25 or so doors each side-by-side. Each is a separate hall (walls only waist high) with a turn style that you must 'brass through'. That means swiping your card to make the turn style work. As most of the workers have their swipe cards on a lanyard around their necks they have to bend at the waist in order to achieve that. And as there is a Somali security guard in the 'alley' furthest to the left an observer might get the impression that we were all bowing to him. Once through brass alley we then climb onto our busses and wait for the 'take off' order from the head bus person. In the meantime the buses inevitably fill up with carbon monoxide from the 30 odd buses staging there making everyone, including the driver) a little dozy. This is possibly another good reason for mandating such slow speeds!
Gotta go as we are just pulling up!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Bye bye Down Town Brown!
My foreman was sent packing yesterday. Not because of work. It was because the drug dogs picked off his coat in the hallway while he was at supper in the camp. Yes it is that strict in camp. Hence the commonly used moniker 'Kearl Correctional'. I will miss him. He was a great foreman with a positive attitude who encouraged often and shared his big energy with everyone. But I guess he shouldn't have left his coat in the hall with a joint in the pocket!
The camp can be really oppresive. On one turnaround I got home to find a letter on my bed from the camp telling me that they had proof I had smoked in my room and that next time I would be kicked off site for it. I have never smoked in my room! I was pissed and called the lodging guy. I asked what the evidence was and he said he had found a cigarette butt on my floor! I told him it could have come off my boot. He said 'we thought of that but when we went through your garbage we found four more'. Went through my garbage??? So I said I had taken them from my pocket (when you smoke at work it's a no-no so you pocket the butts to avoid suspicion... but I didn't admit that). He then pointed out that throwing butts in the garbage is a serious fire hazard. I asked how many butts that had been in a guy's pocket for 6 hours were ever still a fire hazard. It was then that I realized how dangerous it can be at camp. I now put my butts into the toilet and flush them. That or I pull them from my pocket in the smoke pit and pitch them into the recepticle there.
Overall I like my job and the camp isn't too bad. But you have to always realize how little it takes to get you sacked either by the employer or by the camp itself. In the meantime I am going to miss my first foreman Mr Down Town Brown!
The camp can be really oppresive. On one turnaround I got home to find a letter on my bed from the camp telling me that they had proof I had smoked in my room and that next time I would be kicked off site for it. I have never smoked in my room! I was pissed and called the lodging guy. I asked what the evidence was and he said he had found a cigarette butt on my floor! I told him it could have come off my boot. He said 'we thought of that but when we went through your garbage we found four more'. Went through my garbage??? So I said I had taken them from my pocket (when you smoke at work it's a no-no so you pocket the butts to avoid suspicion... but I didn't admit that). He then pointed out that throwing butts in the garbage is a serious fire hazard. I asked how many butts that had been in a guy's pocket for 6 hours were ever still a fire hazard. It was then that I realized how dangerous it can be at camp. I now put my butts into the toilet and flush them. That or I pull them from my pocket in the smoke pit and pitch them into the recepticle there.
Overall I like my job and the camp isn't too bad. But you have to always realize how little it takes to get you sacked either by the employer or by the camp itself. In the meantime I am going to miss my first foreman Mr Down Town Brown!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Who am I?
When I was in grad school I learned that it was 't uncommon to identify ones self with your occupation. As I have had many and varied occupations I guess the closest that I can come to this is in the title of this blog. The 'iron' part reflects the fact that I am currently an Iron Worker through local 720 out of Edmonton. I say currently because at 46 years of age I have only recently begun this trade at an age where a lot of my union brothers retire. I am currently a pre-apprentice making a modest wage of $20/hour. But for now I am satisfied with that.
I currently work in the oil patch several hours north of Edmonton. It is north of Fort McMurray in an area called Kearl Lake. I am indentured to Waiward Steel and work for the welders (also part of IW 720) fabricating the surge bins that are the middle units between the crusher and the foam plant for extracting the oil which is captured in the famous tar sands. It is interesting work and I am sure that the bins will still be in operation long after I have passed away. Welcome to Kearl
My purpose in writing this blog is twofold. First I would like to look back over the crazy course of my life and figure out how I got here. Secondly I would like to make notes on both the process involved in this work and in the process of passing through my apprenticeship. I am doing this for me and me alone so if you are reading this enjoy it but know that you are not my most important audience. I am.
I want to keep this short and as I will be doing my writing on the bus ride to and from work it may end up a little choppy. My type writer is my iPhone 4s so the spell check often changes things that my old eyes don't catch. So be it. When it doesn't make sense use your imagination to figure it out. Looking at the layout of an iPhone keypad may help too.
Have a great day! I will add more later. :)
I currently work in the oil patch several hours north of Edmonton. It is north of Fort McMurray in an area called Kearl Lake. I am indentured to Waiward Steel and work for the welders (also part of IW 720) fabricating the surge bins that are the middle units between the crusher and the foam plant for extracting the oil which is captured in the famous tar sands. It is interesting work and I am sure that the bins will still be in operation long after I have passed away. Welcome to Kearl
My purpose in writing this blog is twofold. First I would like to look back over the crazy course of my life and figure out how I got here. Secondly I would like to make notes on both the process involved in this work and in the process of passing through my apprenticeship. I am doing this for me and me alone so if you are reading this enjoy it but know that you are not my most important audience. I am.
I want to keep this short and as I will be doing my writing on the bus ride to and from work it may end up a little choppy. My type writer is my iPhone 4s so the spell check often changes things that my old eyes don't catch. So be it. When it doesn't make sense use your imagination to figure it out. Looking at the layout of an iPhone keypad may help too.
Have a great day! I will add more later. :)
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