We are currently working a 24 day in a row shift and it is very different psychologically. Part of the reason is because apart from the first day and perhaps the last day all days seem the same. Weekends mean nothing because we work them. Fridays mean nothing because we work the weekends. So in reality every day feels like a Wednesday.
The fact is that our life is broken down into 2 to 2 1/2 hour sound bites. We start at 7am with 'toolbox talk' where we discuss safety issues and the workplan for the day. For our crew that lasts about 1/2 an hour. Then we are out to the site until 2 hours later when we have first coffee. Then we are back out for 2 hours and 15 minutes until lunch. After lunch we work 2 1/2 more hours till second coffee. After that it is 2 hours and we are done. So like the days of the week the hours of the day sort of mush into each other. Everything is just one super-long day!
While I am on the subject I just want to address this habit of calling our breaks 'coffee'. There are no coffee shops around in the woods here. There is no coffee pot in our trailer. And I think I am the only one who actually drinks coffee during the breaks. I guess old habits die hard in the construction world.
Another example of old habits might be when concrete work comes up. Rather than say 'get the concrete crew' they simply say 'call the Portugese'. Oddly enough there aren't many Potugese who still do concrete work. But they used to. In fact they used to do all of the concrete work so that is where the term comes from. I heard a joke one time that goes: "how do you break up a Portugese wedding?" The answer is:"Tell them there is a Readymix truck at the gate!" the only Portugese guy I know in construction is a welder but as I said before old habits die hard.
Getting back to my Wednesday analogy our working every day causes the odd problem with friends back home. I can't count the times I have texted someone at 6am thinking they would be getting ready for work and the. Realized it is a Saturday! Not a good way to keep one's friends!
I have to admit that some of my friends here in camp disagree with my 'Everyday is Wednesday' idea. My buddy Matt for instance disagreed with me. His reason had to do with the menu back at camp. You see Wednesday is either steak or Prime Rib day which from a purely gastronomic standpoint is the best day of the week. He suggested everyday is Thursday. But I disagree with that one as Thursday is payday. Even if we can't do anything with the money due to isolation at least we know it's there. And besides, Thursday is the day before Friday which is traditionally last day of the work-week. So that won't do either!
Maybe the best way to share the experience of work life here is to not compare it to a day but rather to a flavour. How about every day is vanilla day? Or maybe that isn't bland enough. Maybe it would be best to say every day is Melbatoast day. That gives the impression
Of each being the same as the last. It also gives the sense of the blandness of each when considered on its own.
Either way I suspect you can see the regimented way our life works. It isn't boring. It in a lot of ways it is the same. But different.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friends, Romans and Chariots
When you live in an isolated place miles from home one of the most important things in your life becomes your friends. That is assuming that you are the sort of person who makes friends. But your routine drives you and logically (when you can) you steer it in their direction.
Friends are more than just co workers. Friends are the ones you care enough about to share their hurts. Friends are the ones that notice when something is wrong. Friends have your back when trouble arises. And friends are the people who you will likely keep in touch with long after the job is finished.
I have to admit that the first friends I made here were smoking buddies. You see them every day in the smoking pit and when the banter starts you gravitate to the ones whose stories you enjoy. Then you start sneaking smokes with them on the job when getting caught would mean instant firing. And in the first 2 or 3 turnarounds these were the guys who I would meet outside the front doors of the camp when our bus pulled in after work, standing in a circle telling funny stories about how the day went. That circle was flexible by the way. It opened to allow new people into the conversation and closing up as they left. It was very much like a tidal pool which expands with the incoming waves and decreases as they wash back out. Only in the case the waves were people arriving and leaving with the bus fleet.
That group of friends fizzled a bit. Two of the core group of four left the company and I quit smoking. I feel bad because I feel like I am letting the last guy, Herc, down. But he has been transferred to our crew now so he will move into our trailer and will mesh in well with our usual 'trailer talk'. Our trailer crew is now excellent. When several of us joined that crew together several turns ago the conversation seemed to be dominated by some veteran Ironworkers/welders who were totally negative about everything. But after the first turn we lost a couple of cranky guys who quit. Then they made another cranky guy foreman so he not only moved out of the trailer but he stopped being cranky! Finally another miserable old bugger moved on as well. With the leaving of these guys some newer people that are not miserable moved into our trailer and now we have bonded into a fun little crew. We tell jokes and tease all through each of the 3 daily breaks. Mostly our group are young although there are a few old vets in the crew that are fun people and who tend to bring more sunshine than rain. It is a good group.
Of that group several of us meet first thing in the morning in brass alley. As most of us don't smoke we don't stand outside and line up but rather step into the alleys themselves and wait just before the turnstiles for the light to turn green. That might be the most fun of the day and as I mentioned people do steer their schedules to accommodate friends. This is no exception. We all end up in the alley at around 5:35 even though the lanes don't open until quarter to and the busses don't depart until 6am. It is our happy time. How we start the day in a frame of mind that will allow us to work 24 straight 10 hour days that have an additional 45 minutes worth of bus rides attached to each end.
Actually it continues right onto the bus. And the group of friends expands once we board the bus because by routine several people always sit where we always sit and they too become a part of the fun. That being said, once the bus gets going most people either fall fast asleep or alternatively put their head phones on and tune out. But the fun will resume once we arrive at work and hit the trailers. It will continue through our 'toolbox talk' first thing in the morning. And it won't end unlit the last of the group slowly flows out the door and disipates into the worksite. But no worries. We will wash back in at the next break and it will all start again.
I wanted to end with that paragraph above but this is a note I wanted to add. Apart from Down-town Brown I have avoided talking about particular people or naming names. I wanted to figure out a way to do it without offending anyone. Very shortly I am going to start and I suspect this will add a lot of rich fabric to the text and texture of my writing.
Friends are more than just co workers. Friends are the ones you care enough about to share their hurts. Friends are the ones that notice when something is wrong. Friends have your back when trouble arises. And friends are the people who you will likely keep in touch with long after the job is finished.
I have to admit that the first friends I made here were smoking buddies. You see them every day in the smoking pit and when the banter starts you gravitate to the ones whose stories you enjoy. Then you start sneaking smokes with them on the job when getting caught would mean instant firing. And in the first 2 or 3 turnarounds these were the guys who I would meet outside the front doors of the camp when our bus pulled in after work, standing in a circle telling funny stories about how the day went. That circle was flexible by the way. It opened to allow new people into the conversation and closing up as they left. It was very much like a tidal pool which expands with the incoming waves and decreases as they wash back out. Only in the case the waves were people arriving and leaving with the bus fleet.
That group of friends fizzled a bit. Two of the core group of four left the company and I quit smoking. I feel bad because I feel like I am letting the last guy, Herc, down. But he has been transferred to our crew now so he will move into our trailer and will mesh in well with our usual 'trailer talk'. Our trailer crew is now excellent. When several of us joined that crew together several turns ago the conversation seemed to be dominated by some veteran Ironworkers/welders who were totally negative about everything. But after the first turn we lost a couple of cranky guys who quit. Then they made another cranky guy foreman so he not only moved out of the trailer but he stopped being cranky! Finally another miserable old bugger moved on as well. With the leaving of these guys some newer people that are not miserable moved into our trailer and now we have bonded into a fun little crew. We tell jokes and tease all through each of the 3 daily breaks. Mostly our group are young although there are a few old vets in the crew that are fun people and who tend to bring more sunshine than rain. It is a good group.
Of that group several of us meet first thing in the morning in brass alley. As most of us don't smoke we don't stand outside and line up but rather step into the alleys themselves and wait just before the turnstiles for the light to turn green. That might be the most fun of the day and as I mentioned people do steer their schedules to accommodate friends. This is no exception. We all end up in the alley at around 5:35 even though the lanes don't open until quarter to and the busses don't depart until 6am. It is our happy time. How we start the day in a frame of mind that will allow us to work 24 straight 10 hour days that have an additional 45 minutes worth of bus rides attached to each end.
Actually it continues right onto the bus. And the group of friends expands once we board the bus because by routine several people always sit where we always sit and they too become a part of the fun. That being said, once the bus gets going most people either fall fast asleep or alternatively put their head phones on and tune out. But the fun will resume once we arrive at work and hit the trailers. It will continue through our 'toolbox talk' first thing in the morning. And it won't end unlit the last of the group slowly flows out the door and disipates into the worksite. But no worries. We will wash back in at the next break and it will all start again.
I wanted to end with that paragraph above but this is a note I wanted to add. Apart from Down-town Brown I have avoided talking about particular people or naming names. I wanted to figure out a way to do it without offending anyone. Very shortly I am going to start and I suspect this will add a lot of rich fabric to the text and texture of my writing.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Routine
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.
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.
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.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Safety, safety and more safety!
I remember when I was in grad school studying organization that they talked about the difference between how things are officially done and how they are actually done. The official way is usually found in a policy and procedure manual and if followed would add so much time to each task that the business would close due to inefficiency. Then there is the actual way things happen which involves more shortcuts. So in the big blame game of life we all balance on top of a fence getting accolades for our efficiency until there is a problem at which point the employee gets blamed for the problems due to the shortcuts. This is the result of lawyers influencing policy so that companies can avoid responsibility and hence lawsuits.
So here I sit at Kearl amazed by all the lawyer driven crap and PR that goes on. While taking the bus to the site we are flooded with this propaganda on permanent sing and temporary ones alike. The first is really humorous and is on the main sign into the site. It say: "Welcome to Kearl. No one gets hurt." I wonder if it is worth pointing out what a statistical impossibility this is? Or how about the stupid signs like the one that said:"your most important tool is your hands so take care of them!" My hands??? What about my brain? Isn't it sort of important too? How about the cute little ones thought up by some safety jerk with too much time on their hands that read: "All those in favour of safety goggle say 'eye'." Dumb and dumber!
I know the official reason for all this nonsence is that they are trying to create a culture of safety. I know when they get us to fill out FLRAs (field level hazard analysis cards) that officially it is to help us foresee and so avoid potential problems. But the reality is that it is how the company shifts the blame squarely onto the shoulders of Joe Workman. Afterall, if you wrote it down and signed the card then it is your fault for doing it incorrectly. If you didn't fill it out properly it is your fault for not following procedure and filling it out. And if none of that is clear enough then they pull their ace in the hole:"complacency". The worker must have been complacent and so it's their fault!
The official goal of all this safety procedure is to keep us safe. But that isn't the real reason. Really it's to keep employees from reporting injuries so they can claim some kind of perfect safety record. Let me give you an actual example. A welder on our crew was changing his machine over from wire to stick. There are supposed to be 3 connectors on the machine so that you can twist and pull the connector from one and then push and twist it into the next one. Of course one was missing so the welder pulled out his crescent wrench to remove one and to move it over. He had done this lots of times as has every welder on site. In order to adjust the wrench the welder took off his glove as dexterity is impossible through cowhide. But when he started turning the wrench the wet conditions caused an arc and so a small electrical burn resulted on his one hand. His mistake was going to the office for a bandaid!
He never expected the shit-storm that followed his visit to first aid. Rather than a bandaid he was shipped off to the medical facility where he was inspected, pee tested and assessed by numerous first aid personnel. The welding machine was red-taped and frozen out so that 30 safety stiffs could come and photograph the site from all angles. Electricians were brought in to inspect the machines, a geologist was called in to do core samples of the area and 30 psychologists were immediately shipped up to deal with the emotional trauma of his coworkers! In fact he was put through the safety interview process not less than six times in 3 days and the whole thing was 'investigated' by a team of management tools who had never actually been on a construction site before. Finally they determined that it was his fault for not wearing his glove and after a half-day safety stand-down to the entire site they finally wrote him up for negligence after several consultations with the corporate lawyers! Talk about overkill!!!
So when they say they want to know about any 'incidents' (apparently accidents don't happen onconstruction sites) they are clearly full of crap. In reality the overkill proves beyond a doubt that they do NOT want to know anything about any problems that you may have. The entire process isn't one of safety. It Is really a big damage control project so that they can keep spewing nonsence about how zero incidents is possible and how at Kearl 'no one get hurt'. Bullshit!
So here I sit at Kearl amazed by all the lawyer driven crap and PR that goes on. While taking the bus to the site we are flooded with this propaganda on permanent sing and temporary ones alike. The first is really humorous and is on the main sign into the site. It say: "Welcome to Kearl. No one gets hurt." I wonder if it is worth pointing out what a statistical impossibility this is? Or how about the stupid signs like the one that said:"your most important tool is your hands so take care of them!" My hands??? What about my brain? Isn't it sort of important too? How about the cute little ones thought up by some safety jerk with too much time on their hands that read: "All those in favour of safety goggle say 'eye'." Dumb and dumber!
I know the official reason for all this nonsence is that they are trying to create a culture of safety. I know when they get us to fill out FLRAs (field level hazard analysis cards) that officially it is to help us foresee and so avoid potential problems. But the reality is that it is how the company shifts the blame squarely onto the shoulders of Joe Workman. Afterall, if you wrote it down and signed the card then it is your fault for doing it incorrectly. If you didn't fill it out properly it is your fault for not following procedure and filling it out. And if none of that is clear enough then they pull their ace in the hole:"complacency". The worker must have been complacent and so it's their fault!
The official goal of all this safety procedure is to keep us safe. But that isn't the real reason. Really it's to keep employees from reporting injuries so they can claim some kind of perfect safety record. Let me give you an actual example. A welder on our crew was changing his machine over from wire to stick. There are supposed to be 3 connectors on the machine so that you can twist and pull the connector from one and then push and twist it into the next one. Of course one was missing so the welder pulled out his crescent wrench to remove one and to move it over. He had done this lots of times as has every welder on site. In order to adjust the wrench the welder took off his glove as dexterity is impossible through cowhide. But when he started turning the wrench the wet conditions caused an arc and so a small electrical burn resulted on his one hand. His mistake was going to the office for a bandaid!
He never expected the shit-storm that followed his visit to first aid. Rather than a bandaid he was shipped off to the medical facility where he was inspected, pee tested and assessed by numerous first aid personnel. The welding machine was red-taped and frozen out so that 30 safety stiffs could come and photograph the site from all angles. Electricians were brought in to inspect the machines, a geologist was called in to do core samples of the area and 30 psychologists were immediately shipped up to deal with the emotional trauma of his coworkers! In fact he was put through the safety interview process not less than six times in 3 days and the whole thing was 'investigated' by a team of management tools who had never actually been on a construction site before. Finally they determined that it was his fault for not wearing his glove and after a half-day safety stand-down to the entire site they finally wrote him up for negligence after several consultations with the corporate lawyers! Talk about overkill!!!
So when they say they want to know about any 'incidents' (apparently accidents don't happen onconstruction sites) they are clearly full of crap. In reality the overkill proves beyond a doubt that they do NOT want to know anything about any problems that you may have. The entire process isn't one of safety. It Is really a big damage control project so that they can keep spewing nonsence about how zero incidents is possible and how at Kearl 'no one get hurt'. Bullshit!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
More about me...
It occurred to me the other day that when I started this blog it had more than one are which I intended to cover. One of those areas was to fill in details of my upbringing that I think are important towards understanding why I would go into a trade like ironworking at the age most people retire from it. So that is what I will be doing here.
As I mentioned in previous posts my family has traditionally led a tumbleweed/gypsie sort of existence. I want to talk here about my love of and the importance to my story of the outdoors.I think the outdoors also makes a good overall metaphor for the kind of 'shoot from the hip' or 'wild west' type jobs that have appealed to me. For now though I just want to address the out of doors.
As the middlest of 5 kids in a home where education is valued I loved to read. My mother loves to tell the story of how I returned from my first day of school crying. When she asked me why I said it was because they hadn't yet taught me how to read! I was a very hyper kid complete with ADHD and so I had trouble learning or doing well in math and science and so on where reading was a refuge.
A lot of the books that I opted to read we're from the outdoors genre. I loved and devoured book about being lost in the woods, books a out Gray Owl, anything with First Nations people in it, anything in the 'man versus the wild' area. Not coincidentally I also started to devour outdoor survival books. While I was doing this I tested what I could while running around in whatever field or wood lot was handy. I made snares and trip wires, little lean-to's and shelters, I made fish traps and hooks and so on. I secretly held onto a fantasy of getting lost and surviving in the woods. I would be that. Oh. The legendary child with those adult qualities. I would be different. In a lot of ways I still feel like that child trying to be a man.
This is probably a good plAce to stop for now. I need to think about the sequencing of how I want to tackle my family's adventures in the woods and so my time with St. John's School of Ontario. So we will get to all of that later.
As I mentioned in previous posts my family has traditionally led a tumbleweed/gypsie sort of existence. I want to talk here about my love of and the importance to my story of the outdoors.I think the outdoors also makes a good overall metaphor for the kind of 'shoot from the hip' or 'wild west' type jobs that have appealed to me. For now though I just want to address the out of doors.
As the middlest of 5 kids in a home where education is valued I loved to read. My mother loves to tell the story of how I returned from my first day of school crying. When she asked me why I said it was because they hadn't yet taught me how to read! I was a very hyper kid complete with ADHD and so I had trouble learning or doing well in math and science and so on where reading was a refuge.
A lot of the books that I opted to read we're from the outdoors genre. I loved and devoured book about being lost in the woods, books a out Gray Owl, anything with First Nations people in it, anything in the 'man versus the wild' area. Not coincidentally I also started to devour outdoor survival books. While I was doing this I tested what I could while running around in whatever field or wood lot was handy. I made snares and trip wires, little lean-to's and shelters, I made fish traps and hooks and so on. I secretly held onto a fantasy of getting lost and surviving in the woods. I would be that. Oh. The legendary child with those adult qualities. I would be different. In a lot of ways I still feel like that child trying to be a man.
This is probably a good plAce to stop for now. I need to think about the sequencing of how I want to tackle my family's adventures in the woods and so my time with St. John's School of Ontario. So we will get to all of that later.
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