They sent us down to repair the base of the oil rig after a dozen sharks got caught up in a feeding frenzy and damaged the legs. It wasn't enough to risk us capsizing but when those fragile looking things are all that stops you from sinking into 6,000 feet of ice cold ocean, you tend to run a little cautious.
The company pays us well enough but they more than make up for it by skimping everywhere else. Most modern sites tend to use remote machines to do the dog work but we got shoved into a goddamn diving bell and expected to do the same job.
So it was me, Arnes and Hassan crammed inside that sardine can, trying not to think about just how thin the metal looks from the outside and how the oxygen-providing umbilical cord is daintier than my kid's wrists. The air felt stale before they'd even started to lower us down.
We knew that one wrong move could kill us all-one rogue wave could nudge bell as its entering and tilt it while we're still strapped to our seats. We'd probably die from cold water shock before we could even consider swimming. I've heard it's not as slow as people make it out to be though so there's that for comfort.
We were just hitting six-hundred-and-a-bit feet beneath the waves when we heard knocking near the window. It was too dark to see properly but something bioluminescent darted by. Whatever it was, it was the longest damn thing I'd ever seen and the patterns around its head looked almost human.
We took turns to watch out for it both in the bell and just outside while the third set about repairing the legs. Whenever it came by we'd dart back inside, pull ourselves right up and watch it swim straight beneath us. It knew we were in there and it was growing bolder with every pass.
On our way back up it started knocking non-stop, gentle taps that grew into a violent pounding that left our heads ringing for days afterwards. I left soon after that - the second I could - and I haven't looked back. No amount of money will make me go anywhere near that thing again.
The company pays us well enough but they more than make up for it by skimping everywhere else. Most modern sites tend to use remote machines to do the dog work but we got shoved into a goddamn diving bell and expected to do the same job.
So it was me, Arnes and Hassan crammed inside that sardine can, trying not to think about just how thin the metal looks from the outside and how the oxygen-providing umbilical cord is daintier than my kid's wrists. The air felt stale before they'd even started to lower us down.
We knew that one wrong move could kill us all-one rogue wave could nudge bell as its entering and tilt it while we're still strapped to our seats. We'd probably die from cold water shock before we could even consider swimming. I've heard it's not as slow as people make it out to be though so there's that for comfort.
We were just hitting six-hundred-and-a-bit feet beneath the waves when we heard knocking near the window. It was too dark to see properly but something bioluminescent darted by. Whatever it was, it was the longest damn thing I'd ever seen and the patterns around its head looked almost human.
We took turns to watch out for it both in the bell and just outside while the third set about repairing the legs. Whenever it came by we'd dart back inside, pull ourselves right up and watch it swim straight beneath us. It knew we were in there and it was growing bolder with every pass.
On our way back up it started knocking non-stop, gentle taps that grew into a violent pounding that left our heads ringing for days afterwards. I left soon after that - the second I could - and I haven't looked back. No amount of money will make me go anywhere near that thing again.
No comments:
Post a Comment