The arrival

It was a Wednesday. It was a HOT Wednesday. I left Indianapolis airport, said goodbye to my lovely girlfriend, put on my working boots, so to speak and hopped on a plane, a very small plane. As I boarded, I thought they'd made a mistake. "There is no way there is a seat 15B on this plane," I thought, as I walked down the aisle. Sure enough, 15B put me as far back as possible, the only row behind the wing. I wasn't alone though, a nice lady from the backcountry of Wisconsin proved more than capable of making the hour flight seem like 15 minutes. When I landed in Milwaukee, there was no relief from the heat, with temps reaching 90 F on the water, the R/V Lake Guardian, my new home fro the next 4 months.

I am not the only one joining the crew mid-season, and this is a relief. 1/3 of the crew (and 2/3 of marine technicians - my position) are new to the boat and just getting settled in, easing the pressure that I had been feeling to perform up to snuff early. The crew is pretty dynamic with the mates and deckhands from the midwestern US and the engineers from the Gulf, trying to pay the bills as the Gulf recovers from the BP oil spill. The marine techs come from Colorado, Michigan (by way of Cape Cod). Apparently we are the only position not represented by a union. I'm too naive to care. I am desperately needing money and experience, and for the next four months, that is exactly what I expect to receive.