kokopellinelli (kokopellinelli) wrote,
kokopellinelli
kokopellinelli

So.

Today, I was on a cross-Sound trip to Whittier, on the little boat. We were running full, which means 46 passengers. We left at around 7:30am with an ETA of 2:30 or 3ish.

It wasn't rough on the water, just some long low swells starting around Freemantle. Not bad at all.

So you can imagine my surprise when, about 2 hours into the trip, Susan came up the bridge where I was looking for whales and told Chris, "There's a lady who's sick in the lower head. Really sick."


Now, on the little boat, we have 2 heads. One for passengers and one for crew. The crew head is downstairs in the galley. Apparently the lady had been sick in the passenger head for like 45 minutes before coming out the first time, and then when she needed it again, it was full of the line of people that had been built up while she was using it, so Susan told her to use the crew head. In the galley. Where we prepare food. And she wouldn't let Susan close the door.

It smelled so bad down there.

Long story short, we delayed lunch by 30 minutes or so until the lady got out of the head. Susan settled her on the back deck.

We propped open the hatch above the galley to let the stench out, even though it was raining. And we closed the door to the head and I wiped down the outside of the door with 409. Then we served.

About an hour after lunch, I said to Susan, "I'm goin' in."

I gloved up, grabbed some 409 and a roll of paper towels, and ducked into the head. My mantra as I sprayed half the bottle on the seat of the toilet and the floor was simple: "It's only vomit, it's only vomit."

Then I lifted the toilet seat and looked at the underside. Sighed. Sprayed more. Started a new mantra: "It's not shit, it's not shit."

But oh, I was lying to myself, for it WAS shit.

Then I looked on the floor by the toilet (after picking up the MOUND of poo-and-bile-stained paper towels on the floor--that she left for us--and throwing them away) and thought, "Oh, please God. Don't let that be underwear."

It was underwear.

Thanks, God.

Anyway, the lady was in and out of that head for the rest of day (a 7-hour trip) and by the time she left, she had vomit stains on her shirt and crap on her shoe. We felt very bad for the lady, but DAYUM. So nasty.

And then we cleaned the head again, with 409 and bleach. All told, we cleaned the upper head at least 3 times today and lower head 5 times with 409 and once with bleach. And then we sprayed down everything she might have touched the entire day.

We deadheaded back to Valdez. When we got back and told Amanda and Colleen about our day, and Amanda was laughing so hard she was choking on her own spit, and at the same time telling us about how she would have been lying on the roof of the boat all day, crying.

When they came on the boat, she stopped in front of the table at which Shit Lady had been sitting and said, "What is that, that on the floor?" And it was a brown smear. So Colleen had to go get some carpet cleaner from the other boat and clean it up.

And it would have been a perfectly nice day, too.

X-posted.
Tags: boats, shit lady, whittier
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