Sea Story ...
I spent two years assigned to a USNS vessel - while owned by the US Navy, it was operated by Merchant Marines. Being a senior Petty Officer meant that I had a cabin all to myself. It measured about 6 feet wide, 9 feet long, and 7 feet tall with a single bed, a desk, and a vertical locker for uniforms and survival suit. The bed had stowage space underneath (I was responsible for the inventory of spare parts and test equipment inside). The attached "fresher" measured all of 4x4x7, with commode, shower stall, and sink. Showers were the standard GI style - rinse, lather, rinse, and done - no "Hollywood" showers were allowed.
Open-bay berthing put you in a "coffin" rack with 18 inches between the top of your mattress and the bottom of the rack above you. You had a shallow locker under the mattress, in which you kept ALL of your worldly goods. Coffin racks were stacked 3 high, with 3 stacks end-to-end, and two sets of stacks across a 30-inch divide, which formed a blind "alley" - a space with only one entrance. One of my collateral duties was to assist the Chief in inspecting these spaces, the racks within them, and the non-rates who used them. Inevitable, we would find contraband, spoiled food, and "dirtbag" sailors who cycled through their skivvies without ever washing them.
The enlisted rec room had 2 TVs tied in to the ship's CCTV system - 3 channels of training films, Navy history, and whatever the snipes voted on (usually "Colors", "Boys In The Hood", and "Shaft"). "Snipes" were engine-room personnel. You didn't protest their choices, unless you wanted the entire ship to experience "Engineer Appreciation Day", in which there was no hot water, no air-conditioning (except in equipment spaces), intermittent lighting, and outlet power that varied from 80 to 160 volts so that your personal electronics either didn't work or were fried from the sudden surge of voltage.
Of course, "Engineer Appreciation Day" never affected the Chiefs' Mess or Officers' Country.
Food was good ... "Take all you want, but eat all you take" led to a lot of overweight sailors. I did my share of mess-cranking (a.k.a., "Steward-0"), and learned to enjoy it. We would look forward to Steel Beach Picnics, where each sailor was issued two cans of beer and all of the food was cooked on the fantail - burgers, hot dogs, ribs, et cetera. You could either drink your beer or give it back - there was no sharing of the beer ration (nudge-nudge) and nobody got drunk (wink-wink).
Bridge watch was a solemn affair. You reported, received the pass-down, and relieved the previous watch. The hardest part was staying awake, especially during 4 hours of radar watch.
Most of the time, it was routine. The most excitement we had was when we tried to rescue a ship that had put out a distress call, yet made every effort to not be rescued - typical of a ship that had been insured for far more than the value of the ship and its cargo. They ended up grounded on a sand bar, and all of the crew was safe.
Shipboard life was like trying to sleep on a cot in a factory that wouldn't stay still. Not bad, once you get used to it.