19 Jul
Posted by kari.petroschmidt
It was 3am and I had to be in the city for my ‘real job’ in three hours and thirty minutes. I gulped back the last of my cold coffee and pulled the homemade respirator over my face. The filters were long dead but I figured it was better than nothing. My arms shook as I lifted the 30-liter drum of isopropanol up onto the makeshift workbench and began to siphon the clear liquid off into the pressure sprayer which was already half filled with dimethyl benzyl ammonium chloride. As I strapped the pressure sprayer to my back my knees buckled briefly from the fumes as I looked down the 50 meter luff of the spectra-carbon super-yacht sail I had to saturate in the mold killing solution before daylight. I pushed play on my Sony Beat-Master tape deck and Bad Moon Rising began booming through the dilapidated West Auckland warehouse as I cranked the pressure sprayer up to max, pulled my protective goggles down and with a flick of my gloved hand, let the poison fly.
I had never been so tired, so weak and exhausted, so sore and beaten down. I had started Superior Sailwash only three weeks earlier but it felt like three years. I was in over my head, accepting massive cheques for jobs I didn’t know how I could complete in time, mixing and matching strange brews of toxic chemicals I’d never heard of and sleeping at most an hour out of every twelve. And I’d absolutely never been so fucking happy in my entire life. Starting your own business can be many horrible things, but hidden among the bowel shuddering fear and doubt, long hours and insanely hard work you will find the enormous pride, respect and freedom that comes with taking a chance on yourself. It’s your ticket to ride.
Andrew Oliver is a Dunedin based writer.
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| 19 – Jul – 2012 |