Dom's Story: Not much learning, plenty of lessons (2/8)

If the last post was about getting the apprenticeship, this one is all about what came next - college. And to be honest, that part of the journey felt like a bit of a mismatch right from the start. In this instalment, I share what it was really like, from PPE overkill to pointless lessons, and the moment I learned to speak up, even if no one else did.

Starting with the kit bags

The apprenticeship had barely been running a couple of years; we were one of the first groups to go through it. I think we were the second cohort, actually. So everything was still a bit all over the place.

One of the first things we were handed was these two massive Siemens-branded kit bags full of PPE: harnesses, gloves (six pairs for some reason), boots, the works. The bags were the size of small furniture, I had to drag them across the Metro. Siemens logos on full display. It felt like I was off to war. The boots didn’t fit. Some of the kit was too tight, some too baggy.

But I looked the part.

I remember my sister seeing me in the gear and saying,

“You look like a proper worker now.”

It was the first time anything I’d worn felt like it meant something.

The college bit

We did a few weeks at college, and I’m not knocking the whole thing, but it wasn’t great. We all wore full black PPE while walking through corridors packed with students in jeans and t-shirts. We looked like riot police in overalls.

The lessons didn’t hit the mark. Most of them felt like generic electrical or mechanical units - not really tied to the job we were meant to be training for.

I remember wiring up 3-pin sockets and thinking,

“Is this seriously what we’re doing?”

Nobody there really knew what a wind tech did. Not the lecturers, not the admin staff. It was just a weird bolt-on course stitched together from whatever units they had available.

One of those moments you don’t forget

There was one day where the whole class had been moaning about the course, saying we should speak up, that nothing was relevant, and that the lecturers weren’t delivering. Everyone was talking big in the study room.

So I thought:

Yeah, fair enough. Let’s say something.

A wind farm in Scotland, clouds in the scar, one wind turbine in the distance.

I made a few notes based on what we’d all said and brought it up in class.

No one backed me up. Not a word. I sat there looking like a right tit.

But that was a turning point. That was the moment I realised if something needs to be said, you can’t always wait for everyone else to grow a spine first. If you want things to change, you’ve got to be willing to stand there and say the uncomfortable thing, even if no one else does.

It’s taken a long time for that one to sink in…

Floods, crap lessons and the good bit

There were other bits that stick in my mind, like the time Newcastle flooded.

Trains were off, lightning had hit the campus, and I was stranded until 10:30pm trying to find a lift back home. Then I had to be up and back into Newcastle for an 8am start the next day.

That’s the part of apprenticeships people don’t talk about: the hours, the chaos, the travel, the cost of just trying to keep up. The sleeping in and ringing your dad to say:

“That’s it I've ruined my life, they’ll definitely sack me now!”

Eventually we had a block of proper training back at Siemens, six to twelve weeks at their centre. That was different. That felt like it had a purpose. We took apart pumps, stripped gearboxes, got hands-on with real kit.

And for the first time, I could see how this was all going to link to being on site. I could actually picture what it might be like to go offshore. Things started to click.

Ten-year plan

During that time, one of the managers gave us this little exercise sheet that asked:

“Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I wrote down: Site Manager.

I’ve been in the game for over 12 years now. I’ve worked across the UK and Europe, trained hundreds of people…and I’ve never become a site manager.

That’s not a bad thing; it’s just funny how small your vision can be when you’re just starting out.

Running my own business wouldn’t have even crossed my mind at that point.

A wind farm in Scotland on a sunny day. Sepia colouring.

Next stop: Scotland

At the end of that whole block, we got the news that we were going to Scotland for our first real job. Middle of winter. Remote wind farm. And I’d be going with a mate, someone I got on well with. It felt so big at the time, like i was about to take the first step on an epic adventure.

All of the college chaos and mismatched learning was behind us. Now it was time to see what the job was really about.

Next week: What happened on that first real site visit, and why I thought I was going to get sacked before I’d even started.