I wake up before my collegues. I make a pot of coffee and crawl back to my bunk with a cup of coffee. I love this morning hour where the boat is quiet, and I can hear the city slowly waking up. When there is rain, I can hear it drumming on the deck just one meter above my head. When there is wind, I hear the wavelets playing around the poles of the pier and the bow. Sometimes ducks have breakfast discussions close to my head.
Another way to wake up on a SARboat is the skipper knocking on your door: «TUR. Mann i sjøen». No time to think, body awake, clothes on, on deck in less than a minute. The sunrise can be equally beautiful, the ducks are hanging around, but it looses its importance.
I appeciate that my work lets me see the contrasts in life. I see how fragile humans are, yet we are strong beyond belief when it comes to survival. Some people get stressed on a calm day, and others stay calm while they are sinking.
I also appreciate the gratitude and respect I receive from the people we assist. Even the little jobs, checking a shaking propeller, giving a boost to an empty battery, are important to the person who needs just that service to get on with her plans.
And I love the children who sees the boat from the other side of the dock and pull their parent along to see Elias. They talk and want to get close. When I go out, they hide behind their parent and go all quiet. I talk to the parent and wait for the child to find his/her balance and then we walk around outside on the boat. If they get comfortable, we go inside, and they get to sit in the skipper chair. Yesterday, we had to of those visits, and they were just lovely. One came with his grandfather, the other was on tour with his musician father.
