ANDY Johnstone from Kilsyth is an electrical technician in the oil and gas industry, based in the North Sea.

Here he writes about the "offshore pilgrimage."

THE NORTH SEA TIGER

It weighs heavy, upon the heart,

Leave the loved ones, make a start,

The Granite City, by iron road,

Hide the tears, shoulders broad,

On through Bucksburn, to Heliport,

Now long behind, your family fort,

The doors swing open, the bodies sittin',

Sombre faces, wait for check-in,

Bag on the scale, 10 kilos – no more,

Are the details correct, you know the score,

Packed yourself? It's a rodeo,

Lounge one please, for your video,

Pull the suit on, engines roar,

Pre-flight done, time to soar,

Taxi out, time for take-off,

Before we've lifted, some will nod off,

We pass the Don, the chopper's risin',

Slumbering slabbers, an hour of flyin',

Construction, production, drilling and divin',

Your no a Tiger, unless your skivin',

Minus 10, it's cold outside,

In the T-shack, we're to bide,

Back to it lads, it'll no build itsel',

There's black gold down that oil well,

Hour by hour, day by day,

A fortnight gone, wished away,

O'er the handrail, North Sea stare,

Watch the white horses, no longer a care,

Time for home, no longer a lifer,

This is the world of the North Sea Tiger.