Bunkhouse woes and morning wood.

There's no getting around it. Bunkhouse life can be hard on our offshore workers. Picture anywhere from 40 to 60 men or women living in one house. We have a men's bunkhouse and a women's.

The kitchen must be shared, and with that many people all wanting something different, there's never enough room for everybody. I've heard of some men or women having to wait until midnight for a turn at one of the stoves.

Jamaican's and Mexicans do not normally eat out of a box. There's no such thing as throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and calling it good enough.

Sleeping arrangements are rows of bunkbeds. As one woman described it you roll one way and see a naked lady, roll the other way and see another one. It's one of the reasons most offshore workers will work while ill. There's no peace to be found at the bunkhouse.

Showers are banks of stalls with a curtain to offer some modesty. With only 14 of them for 60 women, I would imagine most showers are kept brief no matter how plentiful the hot water is. 

I was talking to a couple of the ladies towards the end of the day. As someone who requires a significant amount of alone time, I can't imagine living cheek to jowl with another 59 women. I mentioned my sympathy for the situation. One of the women recalled a time where she had mentioned the bunkhouse issue to a higher up.

Worker: Sometimes women need some privacy. Like when they have their monthly troubles and feel uncomfortable dealing with that with so many people around.

Higher up: Well just imagine the men when they are having their morning troubles.

This is how I wound up with a mental image of 60 men staggering around half awake tenting their boxers. No faces or anything. More like a herd of those male underwear mannequins.

Kind of like the scene from Toy Story with the claw and the little space guys milling around. Only instead of space guys it's legless and headless torsos with morning wood.

I almost pissed myself laughing.