“I DID EVERYTHING from running private boats,
selling insurance, and working construction,” he
says. “I was 25, doing whatever I could to surf and
fish and pay the bills.”
He still hadn’t found his niche, and while most
of his friends were getting married and having babies, he pursued
a different kind of life change. The journey into a seafaring life commenced
when he was accepted to the Marine Institute of Technology
and Graduate Studies in Baltimore.
The apprenticeship was no joke. It typically lasts seven years, but he
opted for an expedited 28-month program with time divided between
classroom instruction and training at sea. After completion of the
licensing, he piloted tugs in New York Harbor before getting a job on
the ATB.
“I began as a deckhand,” says Hank, who is 35. “I was promoted to
chief mate, a position I’m very lucky to be in so young.”
The position comes with a lot of responsibility. When the captain is
off duty, Hank is in charge of the huge vessel.
“It’s the future of tugboating,” he says. “She’s 500 feet long and 80
feet wide. She handles good, but there’s definitely challenges. We have
the 400-something feet of barge in front of us. It’s a lot of momentum.
It takes half a mile to three-quarters of a mile to stop it. You really have
to plan ahead. You only want to go as fast as you’re willing to hit the
dock. You go slow, you look like a pro. You go fast, you look like an ass.”
Just like Hank, it wasn’t until later in life that Britt’s life calling
became clear — although her connection to water came about a bit
more humorously.
“I answered an ad in the paper,” she says.
The ad was for a staff liaison position at the Water Environmental
Federation, a nonprofit that provides technical education and training
for water quality professionals.
“I thought, ‘Well, I need a job,’ and just went for it,” she says laughingly.
“They were looking for someone with editing skills, so I think
that’s the only reason they hired me.”
But it wasn’t until a trip to Israel that she found her real calling.
The journey to the Middle East began as a vacation. Toward the end
of the trip, she went to the West Bank and hired a guide to give her an
art tour.
“He asked me what I did for a living,” she says. “When I told him I
worked in water, he said, ‘Oh good, then you can help us because we
don’t have a lot of it.’ It was like a light bulb went off in my head and I
knew what I needed to do.”
She began to observe the way the country conserved the precious
resource. Droughts mixed with population growth left an already
scarce supply in high demand. Water in Israel — or a lack thereof —
was a security threat.
Hank is chief mate of the Articulated Tug and Barge Assateague, homeport Baltimore, Maryland, but it is usually transporting petroleum
products, from asphalt to jet fuel, in the Gulf of Mexico. The 110-foot tug is attached to the stern of a 405-foot barge.
HANK CARTER
20
WBM july 2018