Soul Selling? Not me! Probably! I Bet... I mean, It's Doubtful!

9/13
My time on the Harvey Gamage is coming to a close, and I am feeling the same feeling of reluctance to leave that I felt this May as my departure from the Picton Castle approached. The new crew is here, the ship is in the best shape she’s been for a long time, and all this plus the talk of the fall itinerary in the Caribbean make me sad to go.
But, just as it was this summer, I am excited about where I am going. I have not been able to escape this problem of loving where I am and loving where I am headed. It’s a terrible burden I bear, but if it is my lot, then I suppose I must accept it.
There is a big fancy motor yacht hauled out in the shipyard and we have gotten to know the crew a bit, and they are all good guys. We’ve gone out to some of the local Boothbay pubs and shared seafaring stories, and they buy most of the rounds because they get paid actual money, and then they offer us jobs and we squirm a bit because we know we are too young to sell our souls. It’s a nice motor yacht, and the crew is cool, but man… there’s nothing to climb up! There’s no tar! There are no sails! I think I would feel a bit nauseous every time I looked up from waxing the fancy teak decks and mixing mojitos to see a boat cruise past under sail with a tan and happy crew hauling on lines and getting rope burns and being screamed at by the captain and having their clothes ruined, and I would sit there in my khakis and white polo and feel sad inside. No, it will never happen. Unless I get into debt. Then, maybe.