I work on an oil rig. It has lonely moments, but every rig I've been on is like a family.
Working on an oil rig has always been my ideal job, presenting an incredible adventure.
After leaving school at 16, I opted for a career in construction, spending my time on building sites and in power stations until I reached 30.
Some friends employed on oil rigs encouraged me to apply. The competition for offshore positions was intense, and it took over two years before I landed my first role.
To work as a rigger, certain qualifications are necessary. Although I was already a trained scaffolder, a rigger friend suggested I obtain rigger credentials since they involve various tasks like operating cranes and replacing pipes.
I chose to specialize in wind farms, necessitating several certifications such as Global Wind Organisation exams, the Minimum Industry Safety Training exam, and the Basic Offshore Safety Induction and Emergency test, which collectively cost me over £3,000 (around $3,900).
The training covered critical areas including working at heights, sea survival, and fire safety. I also had to undergo a medical examination by a physician.
In 2017, just three months after passing my final exam, I secured my first position as a rigger on an offshore wind farm in Aberdeen.
As a contractor, my work schedule involves three weeks on followed by three weeks off. I had children before I took on offshore work; my daughter was 11 and my son was just one. While construction allowed for one day off each week, my offshore role offers more vacation time, which is a significant advantage as a parent.
The earning potential is attractive as well. Offshore workers can make between £5,000 and £15,000 during each three-week shift, depending on their trade and experience.
Over the next two years, I worked at various wind farms before securing a contract on an oil rig, where my skills were more sought after than in wind energy.
Previously, I lived on a ship while working at wind farms, so I was already accustomed to being away from home.
Arriving on my first rig was awe-inspiring; the massive structure in the ocean was remarkable.
Every rig, including the first one I worked on, has a familial atmosphere. The crew genuinely checks in on one another, creating a supportive environment that feels like a holiday camp—minus the cocktails.
There are about 100 personnel on an offshore rig. As a contractor, I often rotate to different rigs with each new contract. Upon arrival by helicopter, I receive a health and safety briefing and an overview of the rig’s protocols, then it’s straight to work.
Life offshore can be challenging; you’re at sea for three weeks with no ability to run to a shop for supplies or a newspaper.
Cell phone signals can be unreliable, making Wi-Fi the primary means of communication, though it may have restrictions. Downloads are limited, so I mainly use it for FaceTime chats with my family, which I try to do almost daily.
It can be mentally demanding, but there's a strong sense of camaraderie. Unlike on construction sites, where workers may pass each other without acknowledgment, here it’s routine to greet each other with care and concern.
Each day can bring unique challenges and rewarding experiences offshore.
Shifts on the rig are generally split into day and night, each lasting 12 hours, and you typically share a cabin with someone on the opposite shift.
The day shift commonly starts around 6:30 a.m. I wake at 5 a.m., have breakfast, and join the morning meeting to discuss our tasks for the day. As a rigger, I always work in pairs, as accidents can have severe consequences if no one is nearby to help.
While the work is tough, I relish calm, sunny days on the rig. The thrill of abseiling beneath the structure is invigorating, and the tranquility once off the rig is unmatched—hanging from ropes and soaking in the views.
I’ve had remarkable encounters, such as seeing a minke whale swim directly beneath me and a pod of dolphins frolicking in the waves.
However, conditions can become harsh, especially in December in the North Sea, where the platform was covered in snow. We faced the threat of lightning due to temperature fluctuations, making me worry I wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.
Though securing contracts can be competitive, gaining experience increases the likelihood of repeat engagements. Winter months tend to be slower than summer, and rig work often aligns with major maintenance shutdowns.
Offshore life can also be enjoyable and social, and we are well-fed. When I step onto a new rig, it's akin to checking into a new hotel. The best one I’ve encountered was in Norway, featuring a five-a-side football pitch, a cinema, a golf simulator, and a fishing station for catching and storing fish.
Our meals are a point of pride, with frequent discussions about the menu. Most rigs uphold a zero-alcohol policy and conduct random drug tests, ensuring a clean working environment.
My favorite time on the rig is Saturday evenings after my shift, knowing we have steak night and a football match on Sky—everyone gathers to enjoy the game.
Nevertheless, there are lonely moments, particularly when significant family events occur while I’m away.
The toughest times mentally come when my children celebrate their birthdays without me. Explaining to a child why their dad can’t be there is difficult.
After returning from a rig, my first stop is always the barber, as there are no haircut services offshore, leaving me looking unkempt after three weeks. Then, I eagerly rush to be with my kids.