So I’d had this fantastic week and it was changeover day. I hadn’t slept very well the night before (not a rare case when I know I really need a good nights sleep, the outcome is always quite the opposite). We’d all pulled together to get through the day and ensure that the cabins were looking spick and span for the new guests and all turned out to give our farewells and welcomes inbetween the busy day.
I am coming to the end of my loads in laundry and go to empty one of the washers. I grab a pair of workshorts and I feel there is something inside. Number one rule of laundry – always check the pockets. Which I ALWAYS do, always except this time. I scramble to the opening of the pockets, all fingers and thumbs with panic. Who’s is it , who’s is it? As I struggle to find the opening, it hits me anyway, I know exactly who’s it is. This machine holds just two pairs of shorts because this is the persons clothes whose must be washed separately to all the other crew. This is the person whose washing you would least hope to make a mistake with. I pull out the ostrich skin wallet and open it up to read the name on the identity card...the name...of my captain. I pull out the soggy dollar notes and one or two little cardboard cards that are barely holding themselves together. I immediately pull out the hairdryer, cursing under my breath. With one blast of hot air a small rip appears across a card which seems like a temporary insurance card. Who am I kidding? I can’t save this. I head upstairs with my head between my legs as I come clean to my chief stew.
I am coming to the end of my loads in laundry and go to empty one of the washers. I grab a pair of workshorts and I feel there is something inside. Number one rule of laundry – always check the pockets. Which I ALWAYS do, always except this time. I scramble to the opening of the pockets, all fingers and thumbs with panic. Who’s is it , who’s is it? As I struggle to find the opening, it hits me anyway, I know exactly who’s it is. This machine holds just two pairs of shorts because this is the persons clothes whose must be washed separately to all the other crew. This is the person whose washing you would least hope to make a mistake with. I pull out the ostrich skin wallet and open it up to read the name on the identity card...the name...of my captain. I pull out the soggy dollar notes and one or two little cardboard cards that are barely holding themselves together. I immediately pull out the hairdryer, cursing under my breath. With one blast of hot air a small rip appears across a card which seems like a temporary insurance card. Who am I kidding? I can’t save this. I head upstairs with my head between my legs as I come clean to my chief stew.
The lack of sleep (actually nothing to do with our working hours as we are the luckiest stews in the world, as we usually get eight hours sleep a night) was really getting to me. Having suffered from insomnia for years on and off, I was not ready to welcome it back into my life. Night after night of only a few hours of interrupted shuteye was sending my feet completely out of balance and my memory down the drain. Coffee was my only friend, oh and red bull, who in turn became my worst enemies.
On housekeeping days our first task is to clean the bridge. The bridge or wheelhouse as it is sometimes called is where the Captain controls the boat from. This duty presents two very difficult challenges for the more clumsier candidate. The first being that we must get the vacuum from the closet and carry it up the tiny winding staircase, past the sleeping captains cabin, without making a noise. I have to try with all of my might not to make a single bash on the way up. Once in the bridge with the door securely closed we attach ‘fluffy’ the little attachment on the vac, a stews best friend and have to dust-vac the controls on the desk. This means holding an object over the man over board button, the POWER controls, all kinds of alarms, the steering wheel and all matter of very important gadgets. You might now understand why I get up a full fifty minutes before my start time even though I live at my work! Needless to say I haven’t set anything of yet and I certainly don’t ever intend to.
This is why that despite the fact that I am university educated and have taken a break in my career as an events management professional to fold towels, polish already spotless walls and clean stains from peoples underwear; I am learning so much and this job is really good for me. In tiny light-toes-then-heels steps, I am kissing goodbye to the bull in a china shop, messy worker with a loud voice and welcoming a refined and dainty stewardess.
On housekeeping days our first task is to clean the bridge. The bridge or wheelhouse as it is sometimes called is where the Captain controls the boat from. This duty presents two very difficult challenges for the more clumsier candidate. The first being that we must get the vacuum from the closet and carry it up the tiny winding staircase, past the sleeping captains cabin, without making a noise. I have to try with all of my might not to make a single bash on the way up. Once in the bridge with the door securely closed we attach ‘fluffy’ the little attachment on the vac, a stews best friend and have to dust-vac the controls on the desk. This means holding an object over the man over board button, the POWER controls, all kinds of alarms, the steering wheel and all matter of very important gadgets. You might now understand why I get up a full fifty minutes before my start time even though I live at my work! Needless to say I haven’t set anything of yet and I certainly don’t ever intend to.
This is why that despite the fact that I am university educated and have taken a break in my career as an events management professional to fold towels, polish already spotless walls and clean stains from peoples underwear; I am learning so much and this job is really good for me. In tiny light-toes-then-heels steps, I am kissing goodbye to the bull in a china shop, messy worker with a loud voice and welcoming a refined and dainty stewardess.