Love, a four-letter word as some may say, others feel a deep reverence for it, many exploit it, some run from it as others run toward and then fall for it. Running too fast into it is like colliding with a train. It hurts. But then there are those who are masochist and have a tremendous pleasure from it. Again others pussy-footing around it, playing with and in it and having a blast, one might say literally, but there is something about it that attracts living beings, namely humans or those who think they are, like flies to the sweet smell of rotting fruit.
Now, we are not talking about the love that is heavenly or talked about in some sacred books and scriptures, no, we are talking about down to earth, every day just-for-the-fun-because- there-is-nothing-else-to-do rutting.
We sailors are not exempt from this love effect; in fact, we are the real suckers for it. Could it be because we spend a lot of time tinkering with our real love, the boat, and when we take a break we realize that we’ve been missing something, for example, the returning of love, or the equivalent of that?
So what are we going to do? We go to the local watering hole, be it a bar, a coffee shop or a restaurant and begin timidly or boldly looking around for a sympathetic smile, someone who may be looking also for some diversion. Looks, of course, are important but willingness is a must. Forget intelligence because if they have it, they never get involved without a thorough getting to know the other. But then again, if they get to know the other they would never have a chance.
Conversations are about the boat, at least from my part, the work with them, the pleasures of sailing, how much fun they can give and how much aggravations they can cause. The chosen subject listens with half an ear because they may not even grasp half of the meaning of the talk but are mesmerized by the torrent of words that spill from the others mouth.
When we become alert to their state of mind, we then give an account of our adventures that made us look like heroes. Now we are getting somewhere. Here is a chance to shine and show our romantic and adventurous side. The waves were sky high and we stood watch over the vessel and our crew, climbed the mast in a wild, raging storm and bested the elements to emerge in one piece and just a tad exhausted.
Not much to brag about calm seas, a sunset or sunrise, a day-in day-out sitting at the helm with nothing else to do than watching the swells slowly lifting and lowering the vessel in a never-ending rhythm.
It astonishes how our stories affect the others. They invite us for lunch or pay for our coffee or beer or when we have managed to impress them sufficiently we may even get a chance to spend a night with them but mostly one at a time.
And here comes the part that creates the problems. In our deluded ways of thinking we believe that the other loves us. They may even think themselves being in love but far from it. They have been just as lonely for company as we were and we just entertained them sufficiently and created in them an illusion as of who we are for them and to make them think we are full of more entertaining stories but when we ran out of our stories and go out to create some more, they will not want to become a subject in the stories. When the real story begins, they prefer to hear about them but not be part of them. It is much safer to watch “The perfect Storm” from an armchair with real surround sound munching on something from the fixed, solid fridge and sipping a beverage without necessarily wearing it. The chance to drown on the drink is minimal and walking to the fridge for another one is not a dangerous trip.
In addition, the daily chores on boats are overwhelming. Filling tanks with water or fuel means either to use the dinghy, fill up the containers, return to the vessel, heave the load aboard and fill up the tanks or go to the fuel dock, pay an arm and a leg for the stuff and then pay docking fee. I take the cheaper alternative and what the hell, its good exercise walking two miles in a scorching heat three times with two jerry cans 5 gallons each. We could touch our toes without bending and that also explains the dirty fingernails. People with weight problems would benefit from this. It does not sound like much but it takes at least a few hours and often several trips. Imagine you do laundry.
Telling the story is great because of the effect it has on our audience and the embellishments that we use like a five star hotel gourmet cook the larder make for a cheap night for us and costly for the others but you should expect to pay for being entertained.
Asking your mate to assist you with those chores is like asking for a mutiny so it is up to the captain to do all the heavy work and that makes it difficult to throw yourself overboard.
Then there is the ongoing F.o.r.d. work. Fix or repair daily. Hanging upside-down in a hot, cramped, dirty and inaccessible engine room or a cabin that is so small you have to step outside if you want to change your mind is the best breeding ground for some really interesting combinations of four letter words that is limited only by the lack of imagination.
Other things that supply variety to our blues are the aspects of necessary repairs and the associated down time. That is a chapter we all have our own versions and plenty of them. If we happen to have lured someone during that time onto our boat, they need to be very much in love with us if we want them to stay with us. A lot of extracurricular romantic activity is advisable and even that is no guarantee for a happy after. It is amazing how boats can accelerate the natural process of relationship difficulties at least a hundred times. Something that may not have surfaced for fifty years can pop up in just a few month even with the benefit to have shore leave more frequently then on the high seas.
Who do we think want to live a lifestyle like that? So our Honey is soon getting the cabin fewer syndrome and comes up with stories of her own to escape this environment. It could be that they need to take care of family members who are in need of a third eye transplant, a second liver or a new growth of hair on their chest. Others find it necessary to find a job in a Far, far away Kingdom to earn money and promises to return when things are better. They of course want to remain friends because one never knows.
So here we are, the poor drags of a barrel of wine turned vinegar with a long face that could be mistaken for a cowboy’s old horse wondering what happened to the love forever and soul mates since time immemorial.
Sailors are suckers for romantic movies, stories and songs because they recognize their own life in them. It’s a blues that most of us could sing but I would be hard pressed to find any other species other than sailors susceptible to as much disillusions as they go through.
In all harbours I met sailors, males and females who had stories that would make a stone cry and it still did not make them calloused for romance and their eyes still had that sparkle that make them attractive and look-alive. There must be something in this lifestyle that is keeping them young and curious and interesting and that maybe the reason why they are wanted for a while until the hardships of this kind of life is getting too much for the average person and they look for an easier life and less demanding on them.
When they move on, they leave behind a confused sailor who would like to understand what the hell this people do not like about a life on the sea that gives them skills, knowledge, self-confidence, freedom, a deeper understanding of all that is and a sense of awe about human potential.
We want to share this opportunity with those less fortunate land-dwellers, after all, they got used living on the land for such a long time they forgot that they came from the sea, and feel rejected when they do not want to or are afraid to go and find themselves on the oceans as many others did. It is only a matter of getting used to it and not a disability to do it.
Maybe there is somewhere a silver lining in the clouds once we reach the horizon but for me the end of the water is just out of reach.
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