Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I went inside my cabin as the ship moved away from New York and into the darkening
night. And then I went to sleep. For the next three days, I passed the time sleeping and eat-
ing and reading. Though I desperately needed the sleep, if there is one thing I have learned
in life, it's that an idle mind is the devil's playground. I decided I had spent enough days
isolated in my cabin. It was time to get to know the crew.
I went to the captain and asked him how I could help.
“You will work,” was his reply.
I spent the rest of my week helping in the engine room and on deck. Scrubbing. Painting.
Toiling. But at least I felt like I was being of service. I had a purpose on that ship, and
through that, I also began to make friends. The men on board were from all over the
world—Israelis, Jamaicans, Ukrainians, and Russians, a smorgasbord of nationalities. They
had left behind families and wives and mothers to work fifteen-hour days with no land or
love in sight. And through that isolation, they created deep and powerful bonds, becoming
not just colleagues, but confidants and friends. They became family, and they kindly in-
vited me into theirs.
Every day, I would join Pasqual in the engine room of the ship. Pasqual was from Israel
and had a wife and three beautiful girls, who waited patiently for him to come home to Tel
Aviv. Many days, we worked in silence, forming a quiet respect for one another.
At the end of each day, I would go up to the bow of the ship and watch as the bright
red sun sank behind the world's end. White puffs of clouds were scattered throughout the
sky, and the endless blue water stretched across the horizon, slipping over its edge. I would
breathe in the fresh ocean air, spotting other ships filled with other men passing in the dis-
tance, and I asked myself could I ever give this up? Many of the men I was with had chil-
dren and wives back home, but I also knew that they were seamen; it was part of who they
were. Was I any different?
As we chugged along to the second continent of my journey, the captain informed me
that the crew wanted to have a barbecue in my honor.
I was humbled. Why in
my
honor? What had I done? The barbecue should have been in
honor of the people at the shipping company who had opened up their corporate hearts and
let me on the ship for free. It should have been for the sailors who had taken time out of
their day to teach me about their work. It should have been for the captain who was lead-
ing us all safely to shore. But I had seen
Mutiny on the Bounty
—there was no way I was
arguing with a ship of hardened sailors.
