I am to assist the Engineer

I was a little surprised when the girl from the office called again.  But yesterday wasn't a bad day and I think everybody got along.

I got to the yard and headed down to the dock.  The Old Man from the trailer was there with a guy who looked familiar from the crew of the big boat.  The guy was the engineer of the big boat and it turns out that the Old Man owns the company. Go figure.

When I walked up, the Old Man pressed me into service with the engineer.  We met and he took me down to the engine room where he showed me the problem engine and had me running around moving things and preparing for the repair.  Most of the engine has to be disassembled.

The Chief, Bill, is a fat guy with an Oliver Hardy mustache and a perpetual Oliver Hardy scowl on his face.  I was informed that I will call him Chief.  That's short for Chief Engineer.  Neither of those terms describes him for he isn't licensed and he's the only one in the engine room.  I called him Chief.  I think he'll be a right prick to work with.

When the outside mechanic came down, he turned out to be a nice guy.  He's known Bill for years and told me that he isn't too bad a guy after you get more familiar with his ways.  I'll take that as a glimmer of hope while I'm in the engine room.

My back hurts from lugging heavy tool boxes down gangways and planks, over the waist of the boat, and down the ladder to the engine room multiple times.  My legs were so stiff and heavy that I could barely move to put on my brakes driving home.

Bill, or Chief, said that the big tub on deck was mine.  It was made from the lower third of an oil drum.  I was too beat to ask him what that was all about.