Galley Problems

 

So, it's 1984, and I'm running chief on Valley Line's M/V Brandon, and we're on the Illinois River. This boat is a great gig. We have a really good crew on board, everyone gets along well from the captain on down, the boat is mechanically in decent shape and doesn't put much stress at all on me, and we have Theresa in the galley, which is another big plus, as she's a great cook and a really good person to work with.

Back then, Valley had an earned reputation as being extremely cheap. Our common joke was that we worked for Bird Barge Lines (cheep! cheep!), and they had the ribbing on that one coming. Provisions were basic. There was no such thing as biscuits in a tube or other kinds of prepared food, and the office was known to squawk a time or two over the boat buying too many frozen vegetables.

So it should not be a surprise to learn that there was no machine dishwasher, the “dishwasher” was the armstrong variety, the cook. And the cook had to do this three times a day, every day for a thirty-day hitch, the only help that they got was that any dirty dishes created by late night snacking had to be cleaned up before the cook came in to prepare breakfast. Things tended to get a little tense if the deck crew dropped the ball on that chore.

So, one summer evening, we're motoring up the Illinois River above Peoria, headed for the Chicago metro area. I've been pottering around the lower engine room, replacing an unloader valve on one of the air compressors, when Theresa shows up. This is a bit unusual. She motions to me to follow her, and we head up to my little air conditioned booth on the main deck, where we can talk without having to shout.

When we get the door closed, she's a bit vexed and lets me know that the galley sink won't drain at all. This is a bit surprising, as that drain line is a relatively short run of 2-inch pipe that goes overboard on the starboard side.

I grab a flat bottom plunger, and we go back to the galley. I have her hold a piece of sheet rubber over the drain on the other side, and I go to town on my side with the plunger. To no effect. A couple of more tries, and with the same result, absolutely nothing. We give up on that, and I tell her that I'm on it, I'll be back in a bit.

I have no drain snake on board (cheep!), so I start looking the piping over, looking for a cleanout. The line drops down from the galley into the forward lower engine room, makes a 90-degree turn to go aft, and passes through the lower engine room bulkhead. Continuing on from the aft side of the bulkhead, I spotted the line again, and sure enough, right over the starboard engine's oil filter tank, the line takes another 90 degree turn to go overboard, but that turn is a tee, with a pipe plug facing the engine for a cleanout.

Picking up a pipe wrench, I put “the lean” on the plug, and it starts to turn. I get it to the point where it's only finger tight, and I spin it out by hand...

The last threads disengage, and a solid slug of gray water, two inches in diameter blows the pipe plug out of my hand, soaks me to the skin, and splatters all over the front of the starboard engine, splashing back on me, and getting the few dry spots that the outgoing water missed. Something else splattered the front of the engine, and another item clattered to the deck at my feet. Shaking the water out of my hair and eyes, I reached down to pick up a table fork. Looking back at the front of the engine, there's a dishrag hanging from one of the oil lines! 

Holy hell, how did the two of you get this far down that pipe? Being soft, I get it (sort of!) with the dishrag, but that fork also made it around two elbows before everything got jammed up at the cleanout! Anyway, that's a mystery that I never did come up with a plausible explanation for.

I squished my way up the stairs and forward to the galley. Theresa took one look at me and exploded with laughter. She went on to the point where the laughing gave her the hiccups, which got me laughing! When we both ran out of breath, I held out the fork and the dishrag and asked if she was missing anything, and that got us both going again.

And so ends another summer evening watch... ;-)