An End to Wobbly Tables
Four days ago, I sent one of my staff members on an innocent mission to the Carpenter’s Workshop in order to borrow a phillips head screwdriver. The team had unanimously decided to dismantle and re-construct the shelving system located inside of our storage locker on deck #2. Born into creation partly because the organizational system needed some improvement, this plan also had the added benefit of giving my team something to do. As our days pass by without even a blip of difference from the previous one, in the midst of a stretch of sea day after sea day after sea day, I am struggling to keep the soldiers occupied. All of their necessary work is usually completed by 10:00am, which is only one hour after their day began.
With a screwdriver in hand, we spent an entire afternoon removing shelves and hooks and cabinets, making a terrible mess while experimenting with new designs until we found the most efficient setup. We actually finished our re-building work within a couple of hours of starting the project and as a result no longer had any need for the trusty screwdriver. But as things happen, my laziness kept me from walking across the crew corridor on Deck 1 and down the three flights of stairs that lead to the Carpenter Shop. And so the screwdriver ended up sitting on the desk in my cabin instead, for three days actually, right there next to a stack of plastic cups and a small bucket full of pens and paper clips. It probably would have remained there for many more a day as well had I not received a particular phone call this morning from one unhappy man who was most likely wearing blue coveralls at the time.
The carpenter on the other end of the line simply wanted his screwdriver back, the one that he had so graciously lent us. He asked me when I planned on returning his tool, repeating several times, “I need that screwdriver back today!” Soon enough, his passionate pleas began to affect me greatly and I began admonishing myself for thinking that this piece of metal had little value in the grand scheme of things. The carpenter had now made it quite clear – this one screwdriver was the only reason that this ship remained afloat!
As I hung up the phone, I found myself quite troubled that one single screwdriver held so much power. Were there no other phillips head screwdrivers on board? We are not working and living on board a rowboat, this is the largest ocean liner in the world, a 150,000 ton vessel with 15 decks, 1700 cabins, 10 eating establishments, over a dozen bars, an abundance of meeting rooms, 4 swimming pools, a theatre, a planetarium and hundreds of offices, closets and cabinets (and don’t forget that kennel full of cats and dogs!). But despite all of this, and despite all of the 100,000 screws that are responsible for securing all of the above, I was fascinated at the prospect of there being only one screwdriver on the entire ship.
With head hung low, I finally made my way to Deck B, the lowest deck there is, and into the carpenter’s office. He immediately grabbed the tool from my hand. “My screwdriver, thank you!” he blurted out as he ever so gently placed it back into his soft, worn out leathery tool bag. All I could do was offer a quick apology and walk right out.
On my way back upstairs I stopped in the Officer’s Mess for a cup of green tea, deciding to take a short break before returning to my office. While sipping my tea, I noticed that the chair in which I sat had a loose arm rest, the table wobbled clumsily and a wheel on the tea trolley was about to fall off. And I felt ashamed – the ship was falling apart because of my irresponsibility.
I turned towards the window and stared out at the ocean for awhile, just watching the calm rolling waves, thinking how the ocean was in perfect order because these waves were exactly where they were supposed to be. And before long that thought alone brought me enough comfort to return to my office and continue my day. With the screwdriver now returned to its proper place in the world, all would soon be in perfect order on board our legendary vessel as well.
Tags: Return to Ship Life
dbaron
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