A Travellerspoint blog

Setting Sail

It's my last week on the boats, and the last couple of days have been a strange return to my early days in the job. I've had a nice, easy, self-directed job that allows me to take lots of long breaks. I've had the freedom to wander the ship, to sit in the mess and read a book, and to suddenly appear from a back door and help out people who are getting swarmed by passengers, but with that warm feeling of being able to abandon them whenever I feel like it.

I've been working in the platehouse in the restaurant and I've already cleaned up after the paltry few diners. The private passenger deck is empty so I go outside, like I used to when I was working nights all the time. I lean against the rail, buffeted by the wind and wettened by droplets of sea spray that cut right through the thin material of my shirt. I take my MP3 player out of my pocket and I put on some atmospheric music. A force eight has been predicted, and the sea has been threatening to stir up all day.
I lick my lips and taste the salt. I breathe in the sea air.
It's the evening now and I take a moment to admire the setting sun, burning beneath a bank of clouds. I turn my head and see France getting smaller and smaller beyond the stern of the ship. The sun is setting. France is disappearing behind me.
'This is all a bit metaphorical, isn't it?' I think.

Posted by TimDudman 10:39 Archived in United Kingdom Tagged boat ship leaving metaphor

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