What’s it like to work at sea for 28 days at a time?

Growing up in a mobile home in Co Galway with no running water or an inside bathroom, William O’Farrell was “poor but happy and probably a little wild”, running around with his two younger brothers. “There was no central heating or double glazing back then and we survived.” He remembers waking up on a frosty winter’s morning in the 1970s and finding the curtains stuck to the inside of the bedroom window with frost.

O’Farrell’s father was away from home fishing, week in week out, “trying to eke out a living from the sea”. He hated school and spent all his Saturdays and school holidays on his father’s trawler off the west coast.

What attracted you to the sea?

I could not wait to go fishing – as was and is the ambition of most young fellas with fishermen skippers for fathers. My mother did not share or encourage my enthusiasm for the harsh unpredictable life of a fisherman. Unfortunately she passed away in June 1984 just before I started secondary school and Dad came ashore to look after us three – a dramatic change of lifestyle for a man who was never on dry land for any extended period.

How did you get started in the industry?

My father remarried and relocated to west Clare and I followed in 1989 upon completion of my Leaving Certificate. From then on, up until moving abroad in 2008, I worked as crew on various fishing boats and eventually purchased and fished with my own lobster boat. During the regular storms that lashed the west coast in the winter months, I supplemented my income by working on building sites, driving trucks, delivering pizza and picking winkles off the shore when back in Galway to make ends meet.

What made you leave Ireland?

I had attained my Mates Fishing certificate back in 1993 and on the back of this qualification applied for a position, which I came across while randomly Googling “skipper vacancies” one day in 2007. At the time I was driving plant on a construction site in Kerry, but the building boom was beginning to take a nose dive. Coincidently my fiancée and I had decided to go our separate ways. No better time for fresh start and a change of scenery.

I got the job that November. Still pleasantly surprised at my job interview success on the Isle of Cumbrae on the river Clyde estuary, I loaded up the van in early January 2008 and headed for the ferry in Belfast to take me across to Scotland and a new chapter in my life – another Paddy taking the boat (cue: maudlin traditional Irish music.)

What did you do there?

I spent four-and-a-half years at the marine station in Millport as mate/relief skipper on two small research vessels owned by the University of London providing a platform for visiting third-level students perusing marine science projects and commercial contracts in the summer months. Imagine being employed to play with boats and nets during office hours and get paid for it.

While in Millport I decided I wanted to remain on the water long term, where my interest and passion lies, and to concentrate on building upon my Irish fishing qualifications. This was not a straightforward process but I eventually gained my Master 200 Ton certificate.

Following on from this, just this summer I successfully completed my Class 1 Fishing Master exams and will convert this to an Officer of the Watch unlimited certificate next March. This will be a proper internationally-recognised merchant shipping qualification (even in my country of birth!), which will provide numerous additional possibilities within the maritime industry.

I could only dream of attaining this certificate if I was to have stayed at home especially for someone my age and with my financial commitments. It would be possible, of course, but the UK system is a lot more straightforward for someone with a commercial fishing background – and I qualified for financial assistance for my maritime studies and associated short but expensive courses.

What took you to England?

Having become romantically involved with a young Scottish lady I met in Millport – she still tolerates me five years on, thankfully – we relocated to Plymouth in 2011. By then I had progressed to working in the offshore windfarm construction industry skippering workboats and passenger transfer vessels predominately in the North Sea – something very far removed from fishing a small lobster boat along the west Clare coast.

What do you do now?

I am employed as an able-bodied seaman (AB) on one of the largest windfarm installation vessels in the world working 12-hour shifts on deck for 28 days at a time followed by 28 days back in my home from home, Plymouth. The vessel is a jackup ship, which means that when it arrives on location it literally lifts itself clear of the sea by extending its six 108 metre (354ft) legs down until it makes contact with the seabed.

As an AB I am involved in the loading of stores, routine maintenance and painting, security rounds when in port and any additional work requested by the ship’s officers. An en suite cabin, laundry service, gym, sauna and wifi make my time on board somewhat more bearable – luxury we didn’t know existed on working ships when I was fishing at home.

The first day back aboard is the worst part of the trip but it gets more tolerable each day until you finally pack your bag for the chopper ride ashore. Yes frequently crew changes are done via helicopters landing on the ship’s helideck.

What have you learned in your time overseas?

Working abroad and specifically in the marine sector has meant a lot of interaction with different nationalities and cultures –and when on-board any vessel everyone misses their family and friends, and especially their freedom, for the duration of the trip regardless of what part of the world they come from. We are all human with emotional ties.

Ireland is an exceptional country and it is its people – unfortunately its greatest export down through the years – that makes it unique.

Irish folk have a natural level of hospitability, generosity and willingness to engage with strangers, which has become increasingly rare in this fast-paced, overly materialistic, hypersensitive world we live in. I miss Ireland, or should I say I miss the Irish people – and not just relatives and old friends, but the feeling of connection with random folk the minute I drive off the ferry in Rosslare or collect a hire car at Shannon or Dublin Airport. It’s the sense of being on the same wavelength. In a perverse way, you only realise this fact after you move abroad.

Do you intend to return to Ireland?

Some day I would love to have a small holiday home on the west coast for us to spend more time at home to relax during the summer months and maybe settle back there in my retirement. We will see. Sure I was only going away for a trial period back in January 2008 after all.