There's always worse, they say.
And the saying is correct when we whine about the boss not greeting us in the morning, or when the driver ahead throws his McDonald's fast food trash out of the window on a country road. In Germany, too, by the way.
It is hard to believe that it could be worse when you have a job that includes fishing dead people out of the water.
Not just the ones who fell or jumped a few minutes or a couple of hours ago. Which is bad enough.
It's the others, colloquially called floaters, who get you. In the water for a several days, sometimes having lost a limb along the way. Bloated, rancid, decomposing human-like shapes bobbing in the shipping channel or caught in the branches of bushes on the embankment. That's in the summer, winter is relatively easy because cold water works like a fridge.
More often than not, the higher ups have been informed by the authorities and told you to be on the look-out.
Not vomiting is as important, if not more so, than gently inching the floater closer with the hook on a long stick. They are delicate after some time in the water, explains the foreman to the greenhorn.
You hit the torso a bit too hard, it can pop.
Gross.
Depending on the boat, you have more or less fancy equipment to get them out. Usually less. Netting is your best bet.
Everybody gets a bottle of whiskey or schnapps as a bonus. It helps with the sadness and the pain.
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