Pain and sleeplessness

The night shift is an interesting experience. One begins work at 7pm, which at this time of year is dark in NZ. You sleep during the day and only get the first few hours of sunlight before hitting the hay for 6 or so hours sleep...



There are about 15 of us working on the night shift, and as i mentioned earlier, being a 24 hour operation, the work is no easier or harder than the day shift. Saying that, working through the cold, often freezing nights, in a wind tunnel of huge tanks is not to be balked at. On top of this, you are constantly soaked. Whether it be juice, wine, or think clay-like additives, there is little chance of being dry and / or warm.

Below are a few of the parts of the winery work that i could do without:

Every cellarhand was issued a pair of gumboots (wellies i believe is their 'real' name) at the start of harvest, and they are practical, ensuring your feet do not get soaked and protect your trousers too. Unfortunately working for 12 hours with perhaps a half hour break, and the one and only opportunity to sit down and rest your legs, does not bode well for one's feet. The gumboots have no cushioning and your feet at the end of the shift feel like they could feasibly fall off, if you don't cut them off yourself in the delirium of fatigue and pain. Changing to my walking boots changed my working life. i could walk, run, dance (not that much) and stand without complaining in my head and to anyone that cared as to how much my feet hurt.



Cuts: now working in an environment where there is a lot of machinery and elements that require strength and hard labour is bound to leave one with small nicks and scrapes every now and then. I receive on average two cuts per night. These cuts begin as the smallest, insignificant injuries you could ever get. Give them the rest of the shift, not to mention the following however many weeks to come, and they turn into those sorts of cuts that will never heal, owing to the moisture that they live in. My hands are awash with open gashes and sores that i know i will be looking at for months to come!



The other night, a brazilian chap, who works on a machine called the RDV (Rotary Drum Vacuum), got the sleeve of his overall caught on a part of it and it twisted his arm round and round, leaving him with a broken wrist. The sound he let out as he cried for help (he was about 3 foot away from the emergency stop button) was one of the most harrowing noises i have ever heard. It sounded like a wounded lion, helplessly shrieking for its mate to come to the rescue. Fortunately, a number of us were not too far away and were able to stop the machine and cut him free from his overalls and send him off to hospital for medical attention.

Next post will be more jolly, i promise!