Skip to main content

That Dude with Two Stripes

Teen Saab. 

I always liked the rank; until, of course, I got bored of it and wanted a promotion. And then I missed being third engineer again. See why we need to talk about this?


Right from the good old days when I was a cadet, I have thought that the third engineer is the coolest guy on a merchant ship. Everyone who has ever sailed will agree - those guys with the two purple-lined stripes on their shoulders have it all figured out and going for them. Those who have not had the good fortune to be at sea, well, too bad for you; go get a life, landlubber!

Let's remind ourselves of the Chief Engineer first. In the good old days, he was a legend. Imagine a burly, hairy man with forearms the size of tree trunks. Let's give him a generous beard as well, and a strong voice - think Amrish Puri. While we are at it, let's think Amrish Puri casually tossing bird seed around, saying  "Aao" with a whole lot of conviction. Get the idea? If I were a bird, I would have gone to him even if I knew he was out to poison me.

So the Chief Engineer is the one everyone else onboard reports to regarding anything having two or more parts. He is the expert, the man who has seen it all. He solves problems without having to know what the problem is. There have been a few who could loosen rusted nuts just by glaring at them. This man is half legend, half awesome, and then some.

Now that we have established who the Chief is, you should know who his favorite engineer is - the Second Engineer? Not even close! It has to be the dude - teen saab! The Second Engineer is the one everyone loves to hate, surely cannot be the boss's favorite! I will leave 2nd Saab for another time, this one is about the third engineer.

So what is so cool about being the third engineer? To know that, you need to know what the single most annoying part of any engineer's watch is. The heat? Meh! What's life without a little sweat trickling down your back and into your butt-crack. The noise? Nope! That's actually music! Irrespective of rank, nothing irritates an engineer more than that telephone call you get in the middle of your watch. Third is responsible for the Engine Room watch twice a day - from Noon to 6 PM, and then again from midnight to 6 AM. Sounds crazy eh? It is bliss, actually. People aren't the most active after a hearty lunch, so calls are rare. Again, most people like to get some sleep between midnight and dawn, so no one really misses the engine room much. The third engineer is left to his own means, free to plan his work and do it (or not do it 😉😉) at his own convenient pace. It is a blessing to have that luxury - and not just on a ship. No matter what your occupation is, it would be so much better if no one disturbed you, no?

Another plus of being teen saab is that your opinion matters. Cadets, obviously, cannot tell a screw from a bolt, so their opinion is never asked. When it is offered unsolicited, it is laughed at - usually for good reason. Cadets are the Jon Snows of the engine room: they work hardest, get nothing in return, and most importantly, they know nothing. Then comes the fourth engineer, whose opinion is indeed asked, but not heard. Don't forget, engineering discussions between engineers happen when something has already gone wrong and needs to be corrected. Shit has already hit the fan. It has to be cleaned up, of course, but the priority is to stop the shit flying. And the fan. The fourth engineer does come up with brilliant ideas at times, but unfortunately does not always have the right experience. He probably hasn't seen shit hit that particular fan before, and can only hazard an educated guess. He might be right, but only the Cadet is listening to him!

The second engineer has the experience and the expertise to make the right decision. As he should. And therein lies the problem. Everyone expects the second engineer to step in and solve an issue, so even if the guy works half a miracle, it is hardly a surprise- it is his job, after all! Not so for teen saab. He is not expected to solve problems that have the wiser people stumped. So when he does, he is crowned King immediately. The Cadet follows him around everywhere. The Second wants to give him a day off. The Chief wants to recommend him for a promotion. The Captain wants to adopt him. Who wouldn't want to be that guy!

It is the best rank to be in. Young enough to go looking for challenges, mature enough to know how to handle them. Young enough to still "hang out" with the gang, mature enough to actively contribute to to the management. Young enough to laugh at the Fourth Engineer's mistakes, mature enough to mentor him to do better. Young enough to steal tools from the deck store and get away with it, mature enough to know to return them as well. 

Having worked under some wonderful dudes with two stripes, I hope I did justice to the stripes too! 



Comments

  1. I am sure u were the notorious kind in your prime time 😆😆

    ReplyDelete
  2. Why the past tense? My prime is yet to come... :D

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Share your opinion!

Popular posts from this blog

That Kid from Reay Road

So let's set the scene... Typical Mumbai summer morning. Not comfortable. Far from it, in fact. Humid enough to make you crave a thanda bisleri with every pore of your sweat-soaked skin. A little past rush hour, so you are actually looking forward to getting in a local train just so you can stand at the door and feel air move, even if it is not exactly a cool breeze. Like countless (quite literally) other Mumbaikars, I take the local train to get where I want - which today is a god-foresaken maritime training institute, at god-foresaken Reay Road. It always makes sense to spend 25 minutes in close contact with sweaty, smelly, mostly ugly strangers than be comfortable in a taxi but end up sitting in it for an hour plus 25 minutes. Yes, thanda bisleri instead of simply a water bottle from home; entitled enough to claim Reay Road as god-foresaken; shamelessly brands people in local trains as "mostly ugly"; but will always prefer the C.S.T. Slow local from the ha...

That Skinny Feline

I like to say that I like animals, and that they do not like me back. Who cares, I still like them!  I have been attacked by half the creatures on the Ark; be it dogs, cats, crows, cows, chicken, bees...even a monkey and a scorpion! Mostly, I did not deserve it. I swear, I really did not. But I still do approach animals willingly and am usually welcomed with wagging tails or friendly meows. The locality I live is as close to cat territory as can be - cats are everywhere, on rooftops, window ledges, porches and the streets. Stand anywhere and look around, odds are that you will see at least one ill-tempered pair of eyes glaring at you. A couple of cats routinely showed up at my front door, twice a day, to ask for meals, and were happy with what was on the menu.  Did I say "ask for meals" ? No, to ask  would be beneath them. Demand.  One fine morning, I noted one of the cats was being extra friendly. Sweetly purring, walking between my legs and staying there...

That Woman in a Perpetual Rush

Your quintessential middle-class working mom. Who else?!  Let me tell you about mine. Not going to be easy, considering this woman has multiple personalities. I would have been under the impression that there are at least four identical women who take turns lovingly feeding me, ordering me around, giving me a scolding and taking me on a guilt trip. I have, however, seen this singular person change personalities in front of my eyes, so rest assured there is just this one woman who changes personalities as effortlessly as she changes pillow covers. My mother may have many personalities, but there is one thing common to all mothers. They do not have time, nor patience. You want patience? Well, that is what dads are for. When the Creator made the universe, they looked at every problem, big and small, and decided to give us a mother to solve them all. Maybe they did not have the time to devise a solution for every problem. Maybe they did not have the patience to bother. Or maybe, she ...