It was hot, and we were down in those "little latitudes" off the coast of Belize. I was on a crude oil tanker just out of the shipyard, en route to Panama for a canal crossing. The chief mate had James, an able seaman, and me working in empty cargo tanks, tightening down the nuts, securing the double bottom ballast tank access cover plates. All morning our energy level progressively sagged, as we lugged buckets of tools six stories up and down into the tanks. Just before it was time to knock off for lunch, both of us were wrung out and tired.
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