So Mr. Right was packing for his 11 day trip. This is the thing. He does not get a hotel room he does not know where in the Gulf he will be staying for the first 3 days so packing was fun. It is like a guessing game, will he be on the beach, oil rig, for how long? You just never know. His last 8 days will be on his assigned rig so that part should have been easy.
We packed two bags – his backpack that always goes where he goes with a change of uniform and some grooming things, his computer, and pilot things (maps, GPS all of his paperwork that he has to have and whatever else he carries). Since I am a good folder I always fold his uniforms so that he can have them as wrinkle free as possible. He still needs to look professional even though he is living out of a backpack. I think I repacked his bag 3 times to make sure all of his stuff fit and that he had enough uniforms to last him at least the 1st week. I also handed him two uniforms on hangers for the couple of days that he may stay on land in the house.
After we managed to get a backpack and a small suitcase (he is limited because of weight issues as to how much he can take) we sat down to relax before he hit the road. I sat there thinking about his job and the harsh reality of it hit me. When he goes to work sometimes it is like camping while flying a helicopter. It is fun and exciting, but sometimes it has to get tiring. I know that he would never trade it in for anything else flying is a big part of who he is. Mr. Right loves his job, loves flying and he does not mind roughing it - it is quite different than the life of a commercial airline pilot though no hotel room or exotic destinations just the open sea and his backpack.