I may have spoken about routine before but I am going to address it again now. Routine is important to people of all ages starting from our childhood and probably getting more important as we get older. It is how we stay in the big, fat middle of our comfort zone.
I used to be a teacher. For around three and a half years I taught various grades in various places. My first year I taught a grade 2/3 class in the Nass River Valley in northern BC. My second year I taught Special Education at the T School in Alert Bay. My third year was spent as a supply teacher with KPR board in Ontario and my last year (actually it was a half year) I spent teaching high school back in the Nass. I also taught some Anthropology seminars when I was in grade school.
As a teacher I quickly discovered how important routine was to keeping things peaceful. Kids who are pulled out of their routines get cranky and are hard to handle. So every day I taught the same basic schedule with the only real difference being the actual material covered within the schedule. It was during this same time period that I made the discovery that adults cling to their routine just as religiously and that they get just as cranky as their kids when they are pulled from it. It didn't take long after that to realize that I am a cranky bugger when I am pulled from my preferred routines as well.
I have a pretty good idea why being pulled from our routine makes we the human species edgy. I think it has to do with a repressed fear of the unknown. Rather than being able to float along with our thoughts basically our own we now have to be on guard. When we focus on having to react it increases our blood pressure and hence our level of stress. Routine is calming as we can float along with our sensors on low alert.
For me personally there is also the issue of missing things that may be important later. As an example when I empty my pockets before bed I organize the contents in a particular order on my desk so that I don't forget anything. The contents of my pockets tend to be the same. I currently carry in my right front pocket my nail clippers, a chap stick for my lips and a Bic lighter. This is obviously part of my routine as I quit smoking a while ago and so have no need for the lighter. I used to carry a Swiss Army knife as well but since having the third one taken from me at customs I have ceased doing so. But several times a day I will reach for that knife and then realize 'Shit, I don't have one any more!' Hard to relieve that I stopped carrying one over a year ago and I still do that!
I find when staying at Kearl lake and Wapasu camp especially it takes only about 24 hours to establish your basic routine for your day. It only takes that long because we are never put back in to the same rooms and almost never in the same wing or even camp. My first stay for instance was in the main camp in a wing close to the front. I got up, had breakfast, filled my lunch bag, went back to my room, changed and headed to the bus lines where I met the same friends. My second turn I was also in main camp but was further away so I started missing every second breakfast and instead grabbed extra in the lunch room which I ate while dressing. My third turnaround I was in East camp so far from the dining hall that I skipped breakfast and supper and instead grabbed more from the bag up lunch room.
The most important part of my routine is calling my wife at night. There is a 2 hour time difference and I go to bed around 8pm. So I try to call her at 7:30. We changed our work schedule now so we get home a little earlier giving me more flexibility and more potential to make the dining hall or to get laundry in. But the call and the bed time drive everything else. I guess that's because lack of sleep is another thing that like routine can make me cranky and irritable.
Showing posts with label fitting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fitting. Show all posts
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
The Importance of Following Sports at Kearl Lake
One of the things about working up at Kearl Lake is the importance of sports. People here come from all over Canada (and Around the world actually) and so there is a real diversity of teams that are supported here. In 99% of situations there is no serious friction caused by having a different favorite than your workmates and buddies. Instead it is usually just fodder for friendly banter.
All kinds of sports are followed here and the camp does its best to accommodate by showing 'big events' on a big screen in a conference room. The first time I saw this was for a UFC bout. As I walked back to my room from supper I passed a room where guys were pouring in and from which the raw smell of testosterone flowed. A glance in showed the event as did a poster on the wall. But those weren't necessary as every guy going to the event had their 'tap out' and other varied UFC gear on and every man walked with that swagger you might have if you were personally going to fight that night. As they have a UFC event seemingly every week I skipped the event and went back to my room to sleep.
Hockey may well be the biggest sport followed here. That is probably because hockey is so deeply sewn into the fabric of Canadian life. Even more than UFC gear is the prevalence of hockey team 'branded' items. As Kearl is full of tradesmen who make lots of money and tend to spend it quickly there is no limit to the amount or type of gear a fellow might have. Everything from hats and shirts right down to slippers and including tatoos. And woe to the guy whose team finishes badly in a year as he will be jeered and laughed at until we get far enough into the playoffs that most teams have been eliminated. Then all the 'losers' commiserate together and start talking about next year.
The possible exception to the jeers would be for Toronto Maple Leafs fans. This is because they suck and everyone knows it. Everyone either was a Leafs fan or knows one and talk around that team tends to always focus on 'next year'. I was (and still secretly am) a Leafs fan. But one year I moved to BC and started to watch the Canucks. It was surprising and pleasant all at once. They seemed to win almost every game, they came back from deficits to win late in games, and they weren't golfing by April! In fact watching them is where I learned that the season actually ends in the middle of the summer and that they have a thing called 'playoffs' which happens at the same time roughly that the average Leaf player gets in his 30th round of golf for the year! Talk a out hockey bliss!
One team I hate is the Montreal Canadians. Lots of people secretly follow them in a similar way as to how lots of people secretly follow the Leafs. Usually they make the playoffs. Usually they are exciting. Not so this year! As a result they are roundly bashed by hockey fans here. As is anyone who watches them or who wears their gear!
I have a pair of Montreal Canadian slippers. They were almost free at the store and like the team they are soft and have no sole! I had forgotten that I had them on the other night when I we t down the hall to do laundry. So I had no idea why guys were looking at me and laughing as I made my way down the hall with a big load of clothes in my arms. That was until the load went into the machine! I suddenly felt like a man who was caught sleeping with his sister! Suffice it to say I pocketed the slippers and walked back to my room barefoot!
All kinds of sports are followed here and the camp does its best to accommodate by showing 'big events' on a big screen in a conference room. The first time I saw this was for a UFC bout. As I walked back to my room from supper I passed a room where guys were pouring in and from which the raw smell of testosterone flowed. A glance in showed the event as did a poster on the wall. But those weren't necessary as every guy going to the event had their 'tap out' and other varied UFC gear on and every man walked with that swagger you might have if you were personally going to fight that night. As they have a UFC event seemingly every week I skipped the event and went back to my room to sleep.
Hockey may well be the biggest sport followed here. That is probably because hockey is so deeply sewn into the fabric of Canadian life. Even more than UFC gear is the prevalence of hockey team 'branded' items. As Kearl is full of tradesmen who make lots of money and tend to spend it quickly there is no limit to the amount or type of gear a fellow might have. Everything from hats and shirts right down to slippers and including tatoos. And woe to the guy whose team finishes badly in a year as he will be jeered and laughed at until we get far enough into the playoffs that most teams have been eliminated. Then all the 'losers' commiserate together and start talking about next year.
The possible exception to the jeers would be for Toronto Maple Leafs fans. This is because they suck and everyone knows it. Everyone either was a Leafs fan or knows one and talk around that team tends to always focus on 'next year'. I was (and still secretly am) a Leafs fan. But one year I moved to BC and started to watch the Canucks. It was surprising and pleasant all at once. They seemed to win almost every game, they came back from deficits to win late in games, and they weren't golfing by April! In fact watching them is where I learned that the season actually ends in the middle of the summer and that they have a thing called 'playoffs' which happens at the same time roughly that the average Leaf player gets in his 30th round of golf for the year! Talk a out hockey bliss!
One team I hate is the Montreal Canadians. Lots of people secretly follow them in a similar way as to how lots of people secretly follow the Leafs. Usually they make the playoffs. Usually they are exciting. Not so this year! As a result they are roundly bashed by hockey fans here. As is anyone who watches them or who wears their gear!
I have a pair of Montreal Canadian slippers. They were almost free at the store and like the team they are soft and have no sole! I had forgotten that I had them on the other night when I we t down the hall to do laundry. So I had no idea why guys were looking at me and laughing as I made my way down the hall with a big load of clothes in my arms. That was until the load went into the machine! I suddenly felt like a man who was caught sleeping with his sister! Suffice it to say I pocketed the slippers and walked back to my room barefoot!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Little Sundries
Lots of little things to cover today. Most are the result of the changing weather. So today may be all over the place or I may start onto a topic and simply not let go!
Things at Wapasu camp are quite different this time of year. It is generally above zero out so people aren't wearing the same heavy clothing that they were last turn around. Another thing that you notice is the level of dust everywhere. As they spend the winter dumping crushed limestone on everything to reduce the slip hazard that limestone is now drying out and is turning to dust.
You notice evidence of the dust everywhere but most especially in the halls of the camp. I get up at 4:15am and throw on my sweats before heading down the long maze of halls to the dining room. There aren't that many people up and about at that time and the air is still clear for the most part. Most people get up and put on their work clothes and boots before heading to breakfast. So when I have finished my bowl of fruit with a dollop of yoghurt on top and have been through the bag-up room I notice the difference in the air quality in the halls.
In the half hour it takes me to eat and then hit the bag up room legions of dusty workers have emerged from their wings and have shuffled up the halls. Their boots give off the gray dust and the shuffling puts it up and into the air. Walking down the halls you notice it heavy in the air. It reduces visability like a very dirty pair of glasses. You immediately wonder about the effect it will have on your lungs. As a result when I head to the bus after dressing I slip out the back door and walk across the parking lot instead.
I should point out that the camp does have very large machines in the halls which work to purify the air but at times of heavy walking traffic they don't stand a chance. I understand that as the weather heats up the camp send a regular fleet of water trucks around which drop water on the road in a constant battle with the dust. I also understand that even with this effort the dust wins the battle.
I mentioned the result of the reduced need for clothing on the workers. No hats aren't worn and hoodies are only seen before first coffee. This change made me aware of a fact that I had previously missed. That fact is that half the time in the winter you only know who you are talking to because of the name on their hat or because you may be familiar with their jacket say or the way they walk. One thing you have no idea about generally is how old or how fit a person is. This is because all of the typical clues which help you to determine these things are buried inn layers of clothing and under hats, hoodies, balaclavas and neck warmers. Add the safety requirement to wear safety goggles which cover a huge portion of your face and the person might as well be a storm trooper from the Star Wars movies.
With reduced clothing comes increased recognition. I have been startled to see how old or old looking, some of the crew are! But the nice weather is a blessing. I am not looking forward to hot summer but I will take spring any day! It's a time when everything emerges from its cacoon and life returns.
Things at Wapasu camp are quite different this time of year. It is generally above zero out so people aren't wearing the same heavy clothing that they were last turn around. Another thing that you notice is the level of dust everywhere. As they spend the winter dumping crushed limestone on everything to reduce the slip hazard that limestone is now drying out and is turning to dust.
You notice evidence of the dust everywhere but most especially in the halls of the camp. I get up at 4:15am and throw on my sweats before heading down the long maze of halls to the dining room. There aren't that many people up and about at that time and the air is still clear for the most part. Most people get up and put on their work clothes and boots before heading to breakfast. So when I have finished my bowl of fruit with a dollop of yoghurt on top and have been through the bag-up room I notice the difference in the air quality in the halls.
In the half hour it takes me to eat and then hit the bag up room legions of dusty workers have emerged from their wings and have shuffled up the halls. Their boots give off the gray dust and the shuffling puts it up and into the air. Walking down the halls you notice it heavy in the air. It reduces visability like a very dirty pair of glasses. You immediately wonder about the effect it will have on your lungs. As a result when I head to the bus after dressing I slip out the back door and walk across the parking lot instead.
I should point out that the camp does have very large machines in the halls which work to purify the air but at times of heavy walking traffic they don't stand a chance. I understand that as the weather heats up the camp send a regular fleet of water trucks around which drop water on the road in a constant battle with the dust. I also understand that even with this effort the dust wins the battle.
I mentioned the result of the reduced need for clothing on the workers. No hats aren't worn and hoodies are only seen before first coffee. This change made me aware of a fact that I had previously missed. That fact is that half the time in the winter you only know who you are talking to because of the name on their hat or because you may be familiar with their jacket say or the way they walk. One thing you have no idea about generally is how old or how fit a person is. This is because all of the typical clues which help you to determine these things are buried inn layers of clothing and under hats, hoodies, balaclavas and neck warmers. Add the safety requirement to wear safety goggles which cover a huge portion of your face and the person might as well be a storm trooper from the Star Wars movies.
With reduced clothing comes increased recognition. I have been startled to see how old or old looking, some of the crew are! But the nice weather is a blessing. I am not looking forward to hot summer but I will take spring any day! It's a time when everything emerges from its cacoon and life returns.
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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