I’ll never forget April 20, 2010. I was working on the Deepwater Horizon, an offshore drilling rig stationed in the Macondo Prospect, about 41 miles off the coast of Louisiana. It started like any other day on the rig—just another shift in the Gulf of Mexico, surrounded by my crew, sharing laughs to keep our spirits up.
That afternoon, we were deep into drilling when suddenly, the whole rig shook violently. It was around 9:45 PM when we heard this thunderous roar. Gas surged up from the well, and within seconds, flames erupted, engulfing the platform. It felt like the ground was splitting beneath us.
Panic set in. We had drills for emergencies, but nothing could prepare us for this. I remember running to the emergency stations with my heart racing. Smoke was everywhere, thick and choking. My buddy, Jason, was right beside me, shouting for everyone to keep moving. It was chaos—men were scrambling, some were falling, and I could hear screams over the roar of the flames.
We finally made it to the lifeboats, and just as we were about to launch, I looked back. The fire was raging, and the rig was becoming a ghost of its former self. I’ll never forget the sight of it sinking into the ocean, a symbol of everything we stood for and worked on.
Once we were in the water, it felt surreal. We bobbed around for hours, watching the flames flicker against the dark sky, feeling completely helpless. It was a long night, filled with fear and uncertainty.
We lost 11 of our crew that night. Friends I’d shared meals with, laughed with, who’d become like family. It was a tragedy that hit hard, and the aftermath still haunts me.
Even now, I think about how quickly everything can change in this line of work. That day taught us all a painful lesson about safety and preparedness. We’ve got to keep pushing for better practices, for the sake of everyone who works out there. We owe it to those we lost to ensure their memories live on through our commitment to safety.