Iron Doesn’t Make a Rig

I’ve been between rigs for the past several months. That meant I spent my 14 days at work behind a desk at the head office. To roughneck types, whether offshore or on, that’s like being between contracts—a stacked rig as it’s called. If you’re lucky enough to keep a job, then your days are spent chipping and painting and cleaning and working on equipment, or looking for something to chip and paint and clean and work on. Ever watched paint dry or grass grow? Though, it is interesting to see the other side of the fence on occasion.

During this office-time I traveled to Houston to sit with an engineering firm to draw up some new operational procedures for a future project. The man who owned the place introduced me to his gaggle of PHD’s and engineers as Dr. Arp. I thought, “Oh yeah. Who’s your parent?” and never blinked.

He called everyone doctor, but I ran on the title for a week.

Doctor. Doctor. Captain. Captain.

Sometime ago I wrote about the Louisiana in one of my ramblings. It’s a rig I worked from 2014 until we released it in 2017. Some months ago the drilling manager told me we might get that rig back. My response, “So,” baffled him.

“That’s the best rig we’ve ever had,” he said.

I said, “No, that’s one of the best groups of hands we’ve ever had.”

My relief and I took out another rig in recent weeks, the Seadrill West Capricorn, and began drilling another deepwater well. Operationally, we have not had one hiccup, not one, and it’s no wonders. The Capricorn is manned with the same group of people who made the Louisiana the great success it was.

I know why too. The crews of the Capricorn, as they did as the crew of the Louisiana, dismiss every pre-tour meeting with prayer.