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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/935863-The-last-night
Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #935863
The last night spent on a drilling rig before going home for 14 days. my first story
The Last Night.

The door slams open; the galley hand that takes care of cleaning and washing clothes throws a basket of clothes in the room with a thud and calls out.

“4:30 yall, the night we been looking for is here”.

The guys in the room start cussing at the galley hand for being so damn cheerful while he’s waking us up. After 13 nights working out here in the gulf in the dead of winter, you only want to get up, get it over with and go home. We get up and get dressed, pulling on long johns, thick socks and coveralls.

We stagger to the galley for a cup of coffee. Standing at the coffee machine, the tool pusher Joe, who is the boss of the whole rig, is all smiles.

“ Well guys this is the night we been looking for since we got out here, tomorrow we get to go home and kiss the baby’s and play with momma”.

Everybody is laughing and joking and talking about what they are going to do on their days off and hoping the night goes by quick. Most have things planed with their families. Some have trips planned, and a few have jobs they work on their days off.

After we eat a meal in the galley, we gather in the TV room for our pre-tour meeting where we discuss what’s going to happen tonight and how to get home safely.

“ All right listen up” the safetyman starts off “ every body knows the last night is when most accidents happen, so keep your mind on your job and not home”.

“Yea right, like we are supposed to only think about this stinking job and not home, like that is gona happen huh?” “ I’m gona get a case of bud and down all of them before I’m half way home and find a pretty girl to dance with tonight”.

The roughneck named Buzzard, whose job is to connect the drill pipe together with tools like large pipe wrenches called tongs, mouths off. Ok so some of us think more of other things than our families, you don’t have to be crazy to work out here…but it helps.

“ One more thing” the safety man adds “ we got a big front coming though tonight, so ya’ll know what that means, rain and wind. Right now the winds are out of the south and it’s about 40 degree’s. When the wind shift hits, it’s supposed to pick up to 30 knots out of the north and drop to near freezing. The rain should start any minute, and together with the wind it’s going to make for a dangerous miserable night. You guys, make sure you have enough clothes on and don’t forget your slickers”.

“Great” I think to my self,” that’s all we need, a night of that shit before we go home, were going to be some tired puppies after this is over with”.

We go to the change room after the safety meeting, where guys are getting ready for the night. Some are adding more layers of clothes and others are pulling on insulated coveralls. I pull out my old insulated coveralls, another pair of socks, my neoprene facemask to protect my face if I need it, and my hard hat with my zero hood to keep my head warm.

My job on the rig is derrick hand. I work 85 feet off of the drill floor on the monkey boards where the racking fingers are for the 3 joints of 5”drill pipe that are screwed together end to end to make a stand of drill pipe. There I’ll lean out at about a 45-degree angle and place the stand in the elevators that are connected to the traveling block of the derrick to raise or lower the drill pipe in and out of the hole. It gets damn cold up there so warm clothes are a must.

“Hey attic beast, you planning on robbing a bank with that mask?” a roughneck asks, me, using one of the nicknames for derrick hand.

“ Yea I’m gona rob a damn bank so I don’t have to come out here any more, and I’m going to make sure I get all the money out of your bank account before I leave”, I joke back at him.

Some times I really wish I had another job. But it seems once this old oil field is in your blood, it’s hard to turn your back on it. Besides, where else can you get a two-week vacation every two weeks, and the money sure ain’t bad either.

I go outside and walk to the handrail to look out across the gulf. 8 to 10 foot waves are crashing against the legs with the force of cars slamming into a wall, spray whipping up and away with the wind. I look towards the west and the sun is just settling into the sea, a bright red angry ball, like it’s pissed that the cold night will take its place. To the northwest and north, I see squalls lining up like soldiers going into battle, low dark ominous clouds forming close to the water, swirling impatiently ready to do their best to make the night miserable. Lightening lighting up the sky like some kind of freak 4th of July display.

“Yea it’s going to be a bad one tonight, hope it goes by quick” I think.


I walk up on the rig floor where the roughnecks will spend their night making up the stands of drill pipe. My relief is all smiles.

“ Hey dude I got you all set up for tonight. We just got finished picking up bottom hole assembly and your ready to trip in the hole”, with sarcasm only a rig hand can pull off.

“Your such a sweet heart Kenny, thinking of me like you do.” You sure you don’t want some over time? I don’t need the money that bad.” I fire back at him. “ Ok what ya got on the bottom?” I ask, inquiring about the equipment that is screwed together that will be below the drill pipe.

“Well, for you working enjoyment we got about 200 feet of gravel pack assembly, to complete the well with, and you know what that means don’t you?”

I raise my head to the sky in disappointment. “ Yea a frigging long ass 13’000 foot trip at 3 minutes a stand” Gravel pack equipment has rubber seals that has to be run in the hole slowly so as not to damage it.

While my head is raised, I look up to the monkey boards where I’ll spend my night working in this weather.

“Hey where’s the tarpolinen around the monkey boards?” I ask in disappointment

“Well don’t you know that calcium we have in the hole is more important than us? He asks me, referring to the fluid we have in the drill hole used to control the well pressure. The higher the well pressure the more the fluid weighs.

“They took the tarps down to cover the mud ditch with all that rain coming, they didn’t want to take a chance on cutting the fluid back and making it lighter.” He tells me with a sour look on his face.

I start shaking my head because that’s how it is in the oil field; money is the most important thing.

“Yea it’s a great feeling to know salt water is more important than us ain’t it? I wish they would break down and get us one of those permanent wind walls like the newer rigs. But I guess we been doing so long with out and have such a good safety record with out it, they figure it would be a waste of money. Ok, I got it, get out of this weather and I’ll see you on the boat in the morning.” And then my night begins.

On the drill floor I report to the driller, who operates the draw works, which raises and lowers the drill pipe in and out of the hole.

“Ok drill you got any thing else for me before I go up?”, I ask Tricky the driller.

“ Yea, one thing, were going to stop about midnight and stab the safety valve on top of the drill string in case the well starts to flow and eat the mid night meal. You’re my only experienced hand and I don’t want to take a chance on any of the worms hurting them self’s in this weather.”

Ok my night just got worse. I’m gona be up there all night now with no one taking my place for breaks.

“ Come on drill” I beg” These guys have to learn sometime how to handle them self in weather like this, hell I’ll even stay up there a while to make sure they got it down pat. Just give me a break every now and then.”

“Nope” he answers “ I’m not going to take that chance, and besides were behind on the hole, we need to make up time and those guys will only slow us down. Better get going it’s starting to drizzle”

Now the truth comes out, and it’s what I figured. It’s not really the safety of the guys, it’s the time on the trip he’s more worried about. We have a good crew, the floor hands can work the derrick pretty good, and they’re just slower than I am. Well nothing left but to climb to the monkey boards and get started.


I go to my locker behind the rig floor and pull out my slicker. As I’m putting it on I watch the raindrops fall faster and faster, each one bringing a warning that this is just the beginning of a long night to come. A man will do some pretty hard things to take care of his family. Like working offshore away from his family for 14 days and working in weather that would make some people quit their job. But it’s also a good feeling, knowing that your doing the best for those you love, no matter how miserable you are. Also there is the challenge of working in conditions that most would find unbearable, seeing if you have what it takes, to prove to your self and every body else that you are tough enough to take it. And I’d be lying if I wouldn’t admit that it’s an ego trip, to be the one who they know can get the job done quickly and safely no matter what the weather is like.


After I have my slicker on I pull on my work gloves, and go to the derrick ladder, get into my riding belt and hook up to the climb assist and anti fall device. The rain is falling harder now, my gloves already soaked. My safety glasses are already covered with raindrops, blurring my vision. Too bad I can’t take them off, I wear prescription glasses, and so I can’t see with out them. I grip the slick ladder and start my 85-foot climb to my perch for the night.

The wind pushes at my back, blowing me into the ladder. Right now it’s not too bad, but once the wind shift take’s place it will be blowing right into my face, blurring my vision even more. I get to the monkey board and strap into my derrick harness. I walk to the end of the monkey board and adjust the belly rope that will be the only thing holding me from falling, when I lean out to put a stand of drill pipe in the elevators. I untie the first stand and wave at the driller that I’m ready. Buy now the rain is falling straight down and the wind has become as still as the air in an empty room. That’s how you can tell the wind is about to shift, and your going to be in a world of misery in just a couple of minuets.

The driller steps on the throttle, black smoke billowing out of the exhausts of the engines, while the block and elevators make the 85-foot trip in ten seconds. After the block and pipe guide passes me, I fall out to about a 45-degree angel, my belly rope catching me and stopping me from falling any further. As the elevators pass my knees I let the stand of pipe go. It strikes the hinge of the elevators right on the sweet spot and the elevators start to close. I grab the handles and slam the evalvators shut with a resounding clang. When the elevators reach the tool joint, there is a sound almost like a bell ringing and I know the elevators are latched tight. As the stand is being lifted off the pipe rack, I grab the stand below the elevators to stop it from swinging, the weight of the stand pulls against my shoulders and the derrick belt bites into my waist, I give a little grunt.

The stand is lowered down and the roughnecks begin to tighten up the connection with the rig tongs.

“Only 143 more times and we’ll be done” I think to my self.

I take time to check out the weather, the wind has shifted to the north and is picking up. Rain is being blown into my face, covering my glasses with more raindrops.

“ Maybe it won’t get too bad and the rain will stop soon” I hope to my self. But I’m wrong.


I hear the engines screaming again, the block is on the way up. I grab another stand and I’m ready before the block is half way to me. The block passes, klang, ring, “ugggggggg” another stand is stabbed. 142 left to go.

Now the rain is stinging my face, each one a little needle biting into my skin the wind pushes the rain between the hood of my slicker and my face, the cold water slowly soaking the neckline of my shirt. It’s funny how you don’t notice the weather change while you concentrating on latching pipe. I grab another stand and I’m ready before the block ever starts its trip up to me again.

Time and time again I lean out and do my job. Ignoring the wetness of my clothes under my slicker, the numbness of my toes and fingers. I keep checking my watch, time is dragging by. My mind starts to wander. Thinking about my kids at home. How I can’t wait to see them. I think about my girl, how warm and soft she is, how nice it would be to be curled up next to her under the blankets. I think about any thing to get my mind off of the wind and rain that is making my night miserable. I work like a robot, by feel and by instinct, because if you think about how bad it is it’ll only make the night worse.

All of a sudden I realize I don’t hear the rig engines any more, all I hear is the screaming wind, the sound of rain hitting my hard hat like hail and the driller hollering at me over the intercom.

“ Hey you fell asleep on me? If you wana eat and warm up you better carry your ass on down here, the rest of them already are heading for the galley”.

I look at my watch its close to midnight now. We have 70 stands run in the hole, just about half way. Another 6 hours and we should be on bottom, just in time for crew change.

I look around my monkey board and make sure the pipe left in the derrick is tied off. I slip off my derrick harness and drop it on the board. I get into my fall protection and climb out on to the ladder.

Now the wind is really whipping by, rain going almost side ways, flying straight into my face blinding me. I have to grip the ladder hard because my gloves are slick with grease and starting to wear. As I take each rung, the wind try’s to push me off of the ladder. Water is running down the sleeves of my slicker soaking what little dry clothes I had left. I finally make it back down and head to the galley.

In change room I peel off my slicker like you would a banana skin. I am soaked to the skin. I can’t feel my hands or my hands or my feet. As I pull off my boots, they make a sucking sound. My socks are soaked with sweat and rain water. As I wash my hands with hot water it feels like thousands of ants are biting me as the blood starts to returns to my fingers. My hands are all wrinkled and the skin is a pale white and peeling in places from being soaked for 6 hours. I pull off my insulated cover all and give them to the galley hand to dry a little before I go back to work. Then I go to my room and get some dry clothes on before I head to the galley.

At the serving line steam is rising off of the food, the cook has put out a big spread tonight. He has soup, a pot roast, potatoes, rice, vegetables and a big pot of hot gumbo. I grab a big bowl and fill it up with the gumbo. We eat like men who haven’t seen food for days, trying to warm up from the inside out. Nobody is talking; every one is lost in thoughts of home and getting through the next 6 hours. All too soon our 20 minutes are up. We head back to the change room, get dressed and head back to work

Before I go back to the monkey board I try one more time to get one of the roughnecks to take my place for a while, to try to warm up more.

“ Hey drill, how bout letting one of the roughnecks take a turn up there?”

“ Nope, I want the pipe in the ground before we get relieved. So you just head on back up there and I don’t want any bitching. That’s your job, if you can’t handle it pack your rags and get off drill floor”.

I shrug my shoulder and say, “ ok I’m going, you aint gota get your panties all twisted up, just figured I’d ask.” I go to the derrick ladder strap up and head back to the monkey boards.

The wind and rain is just as bad as ever. My arms and chest are soaked by the time I get to the monkey board, and what little warmth I had collected inside is gone. I start to shiver as I’m getting into my derrick belt and get set to work. Once I start moving around a little I’ll warm up some and it won’t be so bad.

The driller waves at me and I wave back that I’m ready. The engine’s scream again and we start on the last 74 stands. We continue on into the night, stand after stand goes into the hole. I wish we would be on a regular trip into the hole. Those 3 minutes it takes’s to get the stand down are a killer, giving you time to think about how cold and wet you are and dreams of home.

I look at my watch again, 03:00 am. Three more hours and I’ll be done with these 14 days. The wind and rain has slackened off now, gusts of wind coming only rarely now. But the temperature is dropping. My breath forms fog as I breath out. My fingers sting from being in my wet gloves. My toes feel like blocks of ice with no feeling in them. My wet clothes under my slicker make me feel like I’m covered in cold slick mud.

I look down and the roughnecks are putting a glob of pipe dope, the grease that lubricates the connection, on the elevators to send me a cup of coffee. The driller brings the block up slowly. I see the steam rising from the coffee cup, and I think how good it’ll feel to get that hot liquid inside of me. But before it’s half way up a gust of wind blows by out of nowhere and blows the cup off. I watch the cup and the hot coffee fly off into the night. Disappointed I grab another stand of pipe and latch it when the elevators go by. Time drags on.

I look at my watch again. 05:00. I look at the sky after another stand is latched I notice the rain has quit and the wind has slacked off to a light breeze. I see the happy glow of the half moon smiling at me, telling me the worst is over. I see stars playing hide and seek behind the clouds. To the east the deep purple of the false dawn is starting to show.

I latch a couple more stands. The sun is now starting to break the horizon, a happy orange glow lighting up the bottom of the clouds still lingering after the front.

Two more stands latched. The sun is half way out of the water, chasing away the last of the storm clouds, bright beams of sunlight reach up wards, like the sun is pulling itself out of the cold dark night. I look closer and my heart starts beating with joy. I see a small black dot bouncing around on the water.

Another stand goes into the hole. I look again; it’s our boat coming. One of the sweetest sights I’ve seen in 14 days. The drill crew is now alive and talking, moving around like kids in a playground instead of like zombies. I latch the next stand and I hear the engines of the crew boar roar as it backs into the rig.

I look to the crane when I hear it’s engine rev up, and I see the personal basket that we use to transfer from the boat to the rig hanging from the boom. There on the outside of the basket I see my relief standing on the ring on the outside hanging onto the netting, that makes up the outside of the personal net. He waves at me and I make hurry up sign to him.

I grab the last stand. The elevators pass by; I fall out and latch the elevators. I look around my monkey board one last time. Making sure it’s all safe for when my relief comes up here later today. I drop my derrick harness, strap into my fall protection and get on the ladder. I scamper down the ladder like a monkey, happy to have this night over with. At the bottom my relief waits for me.

“ Damn it Johnny” I laughed as I come off the ladder in front of him. “If you wasn’t so ugly and I wasn’t going home I’d kiss you,”

Johnny shakes his head and grins. “ Yep, you been out here too long .How was your night with that big front coming through?”

Forgetting the cold, the wet and the fatigue, I grinned at Johnny. “ Hell it was great!!!! You know the last night of the hitch is always the best”.

Clapping Johnny on the back, I make my way off the drill floor to catch the boat for and claim the prize I’ve been working these two weeks for:

Home, family and the woman I love……….soon enough I knew, I would be back here dancing on the monkey boards.



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