-sounds like the offer that an asset like myself should have received. In reality it was more of an SMS type deal saying that if I had nothing going on, I may as well drop by for a couple of weeks. The candidate search process that had taken place to reach this point was equally impressive and I was later told by the crew that the captain had said, "what about that Spud guy. He must be unemployed."
Regardless of circumstance I was hired and now part of the Blue Moon crew. The boat had an impressive itinerary- heading down the East coast to Panama, through the canal and up to Mexico for a few days before making tracks for Alaska. Conveniently my time aboard would come to an end just prior to the Alaska leg and rob me of an awesome experience. Tim was a cunning, cunning man. I flew to Savannah GA, on the west coast where the boat was docked for the time being. An awkward place at the best of times with records such as 'second most haunted town in the USA' making up part of its charm. It is essentially The Deep South, which I ignorantly thought would be located in the South, (which it is not). I still haven't wrapped my head around that one. It was the setting of Forrest Gump (another proud claim), which should paint the picture, and this was to be our home for 2 weeks before we sailed South and began the epic trip to Alaska.
The deckhand position aboard a luxury yacht is not an interesting nor a complex one. Aside from brief moments of maintenance, handling lines and driving small craft the common deckhand is not much more than a car-washer. Sure he gets paid like he owns the car but in truth, on any given day he is more likely to have a mop in his hand than a compass. That being said there are various techniques that are proudly employed in every aspect of this glamorous vocation, all of which are learned through trial and error. Being a rookie presents itself with more than enough 'error' opportunities, like rolling up lines like a pizza and effectively ruining them. Painting is another skill that takes time to master, which Tim will agree with when he notices that his radio transformed under my ownership from a jet-black James Bond device into a zebra striped lunchbox. I made sure I was off the boat before he spotted it.
So with 2 weeks under my belt and a crew that still tolerated my blunders on a daily basis, it was time to head off. Sea-sickness and chronic boredom were challenges that I was more than willing to face and we headed South with a sense of vigor that was customary of sailors that had been confined to land for far too long. We looked forward to the weeks of sailing somewhat more eagerly than we did to Chris Marsicano's shocking jokes, and even with the dead-weight contribution that I provided we were a spirited outfit.
Next stop: Panama.
NB Fact - AFL is for little sissy girls
