All of us standing in a line, uniforms starched and pressed within an inch of their lives, one with the welcome towels, another with the welcome drinks and every tooth of each crew member glistening with that obligatory smile.
Photo - Not our crew, for a start our uniforms FIT us! But you get the picture.
Underneath those smiles was the backache and sleep deprivation of fourteen hour days for the last twenty one. Prickly eyebrows line my face and bags under my eyes so dark that I might as well be wearing a burglar’s mask.
Daydreaming about that sweet moment when the bartenders eyes would meet mine, a green crisp $50 bill in my hand as I ponder over my poison of choice, before finally deciding to have it all and order; a glass of wine, an Amarula (my new favourite, a must try for Kalua lovers) , a beer and a rum and coke. I was hopeful at the prospect of working on a ‘dry’ boat but now it felt like a lifetime since I had a taste of tipple. Now I understood why yachties had a liquid diet in Fort Lauderdale, work hard play hard in this industry was an understatement. You know when you’ve had a really hard day and you need a glass of liquor to help you let go and unwind? Think of how you feel after twenty of those really hard days.
Having guests on was tough, super tough; it hit me by surprise and certainly not gently. My emotions could go from happy to distraught in twenty seconds, all topped off with my aching back and skin torn fingers. It was a constant roller coaster of feeling so rewarded, so sure, so unsure, so much pain, so excited and so disappointed.
Of course while guests are on board you follow a strict routine and every task must be completed to a ‘T’. As a ‘green’ stew it was only natural that I would make a few mistakes here and there as I was still learning the ropes. I often lost sight of this and felt as though I was doing everything wrong. My chief stew would be constantly telling me I needed to do it like this instead, I shouldn’t of done that ect, as she needed to teach me and help me to improve. Having been so many years since had received a 'telling off' coupled with the fact that I was trying really hard meant that I didn't handle this constructive criticism in the best of ways, letting it get me down.
To make matters worse the dream of a few days off in St Thomas at the end of the slog had been shattered. I overhear the most soul-destroying conversation between our Captain and the owner. It appears that the crane has broken, thus eliminating the use of the toys; therefore fixing it became number one priority. The repair could only be done in Fort Lauderdale so we were forced to return and would make it back to St Thomas just in time for the next guest trip. Everybody is disappointed but while this regret dwindles for most of my fellow seaman as they realize they will be reunited with their loved ones or get to sleep in the comforts of their own beds, it hits hard for me that for everyone else our base is their home and this makes me feel the most homesick I have felt so far.
Another five sober days on route to Fort Lauderdale but boy do I make up for it in the few days back on land. Despite still not being granted a day off, I certainly make the most of my evenings. The debauchery of those few days means this time round, I welcome the thought of seahab.
Photo - Not our crew, for a start our uniforms FIT us! But you get the picture.
Underneath those smiles was the backache and sleep deprivation of fourteen hour days for the last twenty one. Prickly eyebrows line my face and bags under my eyes so dark that I might as well be wearing a burglar’s mask.
Daydreaming about that sweet moment when the bartenders eyes would meet mine, a green crisp $50 bill in my hand as I ponder over my poison of choice, before finally deciding to have it all and order; a glass of wine, an Amarula (my new favourite, a must try for Kalua lovers) , a beer and a rum and coke. I was hopeful at the prospect of working on a ‘dry’ boat but now it felt like a lifetime since I had a taste of tipple. Now I understood why yachties had a liquid diet in Fort Lauderdale, work hard play hard in this industry was an understatement. You know when you’ve had a really hard day and you need a glass of liquor to help you let go and unwind? Think of how you feel after twenty of those really hard days.
Having guests on was tough, super tough; it hit me by surprise and certainly not gently. My emotions could go from happy to distraught in twenty seconds, all topped off with my aching back and skin torn fingers. It was a constant roller coaster of feeling so rewarded, so sure, so unsure, so much pain, so excited and so disappointed.
Of course while guests are on board you follow a strict routine and every task must be completed to a ‘T’. As a ‘green’ stew it was only natural that I would make a few mistakes here and there as I was still learning the ropes. I often lost sight of this and felt as though I was doing everything wrong. My chief stew would be constantly telling me I needed to do it like this instead, I shouldn’t of done that ect, as she needed to teach me and help me to improve. Having been so many years since had received a 'telling off' coupled with the fact that I was trying really hard meant that I didn't handle this constructive criticism in the best of ways, letting it get me down.
To make matters worse the dream of a few days off in St Thomas at the end of the slog had been shattered. I overhear the most soul-destroying conversation between our Captain and the owner. It appears that the crane has broken, thus eliminating the use of the toys; therefore fixing it became number one priority. The repair could only be done in Fort Lauderdale so we were forced to return and would make it back to St Thomas just in time for the next guest trip. Everybody is disappointed but while this regret dwindles for most of my fellow seaman as they realize they will be reunited with their loved ones or get to sleep in the comforts of their own beds, it hits hard for me that for everyone else our base is their home and this makes me feel the most homesick I have felt so far.
Another five sober days on route to Fort Lauderdale but boy do I make up for it in the few days back on land. Despite still not being granted a day off, I certainly make the most of my evenings. The debauchery of those few days means this time round, I welcome the thought of seahab.