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.
