What Working at Sea Has Taught Me

When you’ve been working on the water all day and you’re tired, wet and cold, there comes a point when nobody wants to do another fucking thing. That’s when you find out what keeps a crew going—and what you owe the people working beside you.

Working at sea has taught me about money, meals, morale and respect. Some of those lessons come with a laugh. Others come with a very clear reminder that the water doesn’t care how tough you think you are.

Stinky Cheese

We work twelve-hour shifts. Under the pay arrangement I’m talking about, hours after twelve are paid at double time. I call that “Stinky Cheese.”

When the younger guys are fed up with a long day, I’ll remind them why we’re there: we’re earning money. Think about what you’re getting paid. Sometimes a little perspective—and a ridiculous name for overtime—helps lift the mood.

That’s a morale boost, not a reason to ignore exhaustion or unsafe conditions. Extra money doesn’t replace rest or sound decisions. There’s a difference between cheering each other up and pretending nobody has limits.

No matter how busy it gets, feed the crew

As a deckhand-cook, this is a big one for me. No matter how busy or bad the day gets, the crew still needs to eat. You need a proper meal. Calories, protein, something in your stomach—not just another promise that dinner’s coming eventually.

It’s easy to talk about teamwork as if it’s some grand speech. Sometimes teamwork is making sure the people around you have been fed. And making sure you’ve eaten too.

A crew needs more than a work list

On this boat, we’ll usually sit down after dinner and watch a movie or a TV show. In the morning, we’ll have a bit of a bullshit over coffee, around the start of the day and the safety meeting.

Those ordinary moments matter. You work together, eat together and spend your downtime in the same small world. Having a laugh or watching something together gives you a chance to be people, not just a collection of jobs that need doing.

The water deserves your respect

A rough day aboard doesn’t necessarily end with driving home and shutting the door behind you. You’re still out there. The rain, the swell and the tiredness can all be part of the same day. I’ve known long stretches where the work seemed to keep coming, and that changes how you look at the place you work.

One thing the sea teaches quickly: drop something over the side and you may never see it again. A phone, a tool—gone. It makes you think about what you’re holding, where you’re standing and what’s beyond the edge.

The most important thing to keep out of the water is yourself. That’s the respect I’m talking about. The view can be beautiful, but it’s still the sea.

And respect what lives beneath it

We see whales out here. They’re fucking huge. Seeing animals like that in their own world gives you another kind of perspective. There’s a lot happening beneath the surface, whether you can see it or not.

For me, working at sea has made respect practical: look after the crew, keep people fed, make room for a laugh, and never get casual about the water.

Enjoy the Stinky Cheese. Look after each other. Come home.

Both illustrations are imagined scenes created for this story.