TEMPER, TEMPER; have you ever had one of these days?

Back in the 1980's, I was contracted out to TEXACO CANADA. During this particular incident I was hauling an "A" train to Seven Islands, on Quebec's north shore, and at times would run through the bush country up and into Labrador City, Labrador, Canada.​

I lived in Barrie, Ontario at the time, and would commute down to Toronto to go to work. It was about 1 ½ to 2 hour run, depending on the time of day. It was nothing really, as on one trip; I would be gone for 4 or 5 days.

I would arrive at work around 11:00 pm. I would take the grease tanker over to Bronte, Ontario (20 miles away) and pick up a load of Bunker oil. I would then bring it back to the package goods plant, unload on one side of the plant, and then move the tanker around to the other side of the building. The bunker was used in the manufacture of grease for the Iron Ore Company of Canada. With no storage for this product, it was formulated and pumped directly back into the tanker trailer, and then delivered direct to the customer. This whole process would take from 12 to 18 hours.

On this particular trip, I was late getting loaded, and coming back it was a horrendous morning rush hour, and I had the makings of a good migraine coming on. It was the beginning of a bad temper day.

The unloading pipes were positioned under the warehouse dock. I would back in, hook up the hoses, and pump the load off with the trailers own engine and pump. I had been complaining to the company for some months now about the trailer’s 3 inch hoses. They were getting old and rotten, and I wanted new ones. As usual big corporation management was not willing to put out the money for replacement. I guess that the powers that be have to justify their own pay cheque, by not spending.

In this case the production kettles that I was to unload in were still in use, and I had to wait another hour before they would be empty. The slow burning fuse to my temper was now lit. Next the boys upstairs in production had to go on their 15 minute break, which in the big time oil companies means ½ hr minimum. The temper fuse is now being fanned, raising the temperature a little more. The fittings to the product receiving pipes were not properly cleaned and the caps were frozen on. An open torch flame would have cured the problem in just a few minutes. Unfortunately I was to unload in a no flame zone. A hammer and chisel were now the tools of choice to take along, crawling under the dock on the tar infested ground. After 20 minutes of hammering, swearing and hitting my fingers with the hammer, my fuse was really starting to gather speed. In the meantime the laboratory supervisor came out onto the dock wearing his business suit and a crispy clean white lab coat. He stood around for a while saying nothing, just watching what I was doing. He left after a few minutes.

It was now time to pump the load off. I fired up the engine, put her in gear and started pumping. Some idiot upstairs in the production room failed to open one of the kettle receiving valves. The back pressure on the old hoses forced a blow-out. There was hot black bunker oil spraying all over the place. (Note – A teaspoon of oil on the ground, spreads, and looks like a gallon of oil.) I hit the kill switch and shut everything down, but not before the warehouse dock, the trailer, a 20 foot circle as well as I was sprayed with black bunker oil.

I was just getting over the shock of the incident when the management genius in the white coat came out again; stood on the dock, looking down at me asked “are you having a problem?” did something go wrong?” I just stood there for a moment, dripping in oil and then went totally ballistic. Reaching down to a ½ filled 5 gallon pail of oil hose drainings, I picked it up and threw it at him. He screamed and took off for the office while I climbed up onto the dock and right after him. I slipped in the oil and he got away. I headed for the dispatch office and went crashing through the door (not bothering to open it first, and ripping it off its hinges.) One of the office girls dove under the desk. I guess they thought that a tornado had struck. I paused for a second and told my manager where they could insert their job. Continuing out the other door and into the parking lot, I got my car and roared around the block to the truck, loading all my possessions into the car, I headed for home.

There are two things that can cool me down after a temper fit; one is to take my handguns out to the range and shoot off a dozen or so 357 magnum rounds. It seems to have a soothing effect. The other is to go for a long highway drive which seems to work. I never get erratic or speedy when driving, no matter what mood. In this case it was a 2 hour drive getting home. I was 4 days early getting there. I explained to my wife why. I then showered and went to bed. In the meantime the fleet manager phoned and wanted my wife to get me up and talk to me. She told them that if they wanted to get me up, to come up and do it themselves, because she wasn’t about to. Otherwise she would have me call them in a couple days. They never bothered coming up.

Eventually I went in to see them, and they were all kissy-kissy. They took me around to the truck and showed me that it was all cleaned up and fitted out with about $10,000 worth of new premium high pressure petroleum hoses and all new fittings throughout. I took the rest of the week off and eventually went back on the same run. ------- Diesel Gypsy