Horses versus Ships and what on earth has Top Gun got to do with it all??

In a previous life I rode horses. All day, every day for as long as I can remember and to the point of obsession. I promise there’s a tenuous link to working in the maritime industry…

What it means is that at the age of 12 I got a part time job at the local yard and spent every waking hour there at weekends and on school holidays. . I loved it, obviously, but it was really hard work for anyone, let alone a 12 year old. My day typically started early, arriving on my bicycle at 06:30 and I rarely made it home before 19:30. 

The day started with heavy manual labour. Mucking out stables, carrying bales of straw and hay to the fields and filling water buckets and distributing them wherever was needed. After that I had some breakfast. Well not just some; more like loads of breakfast! 

After breakfast I tacked up the first of my many rides of the day. Out for a minimum of 1 hour, trotting and cantering, my thighs were on fire. Get back to the yard, rub the horse down, rug it up and pop it in the stable before tacking up the next one. It was a rinse repeat of sometimes up to 6 times. 

Lunch was always skipped and the early evening was spent washing the sweaty and muddy tack and , then waxing it to restore its suppleness. At the end of the day, it was time to skip out the stables and refill the water buckets, put more hay into the racks and prepare the night time feeds. This was my favourite time of the day. I loved ‘tucking’ them the horses up in bed and saying goodnight. 

So, the tenuous link. Hard manual labour, long hours and some pretty shitty jobs (literally) could easily put a 12 year old off. But the difference was that I properly loved the animals and I love to be outdoors. So, it never seemed like work to me. Even though it was total slave labour. I got paid £10 per weekend for all that work!!

Joining the military felt relatively straightforward after that. I already knew how to do a long day, function on little sleep and not much food, spend most of the day utterly filthy followed by the rest of the evening cleaning myself and my kit, before flopping into bed and then getting up early to do it all again.

In my medical world, again there were- long days, sometimes the manual labour was physically hard, especially when extricating patients in complex situations. It was mentally and emotionally exhausting sometimes, but I loved my work and being able to make a difference sometimes. And yes, I was filthy again. Usually blood or vomit, and if I had had a really good day, just throw in some pus as well!

Working at sea… can you see where I’m going with this! You can see a pattern forming here……. More long hours, more exhaustion, more dirt, but that love of the ocean kept me going.

So, back to the tenuous link? That Saturday job at 12 years old set me up for life. It taught me commitment, responsibility and pure hard work. I bloody loved all of it and I still do. My work has never felt like a job. I genuinely don’t feel seen off when I have to start early or work late. I enjoy the new places and people and I never tire of the permanent learning curve that I am on. Plus ships are super cool!

So, Gen X and Y watch out… I am basically Maverick (possibly a little taller and female) including the pretty cool sunglasses and… I’ll never grow out of my love for what I do!