Maine Diaries: Thoughts of home
Each spring students from
Maine Maritime Academy
set sail on their training ship the State of Maine
for a two-month cruise. One student, Paul Kemp*, has
agreed to share his experience.
June 17- Here we float rocking 20 degrees or more from side to side in no more then a five-foot swell--I’m convinced the deck department doesn’t believe in ballasting a boat—and thinking about when we will return home and what we will be doing when we get there.
For the first few weeks on a ship, our minds are usually centered on the tasks we have set before us, and we pay little attention to when we will be getting back. But then, at some unforeseen marker, we all become tired of this small steel island we find ourselves imprisoned on.
For most of us, these ships that wander the world oceans will become our homes for months at a time pulling us away from our loved ones or simply from the things we love to do. But this is the path we have chosen.
Of course, some after this cruise will choose to never go back. The days are long at sea with often little reward except a hot meal that more often than not is surplus World War II era canned food--one truly cannot find such gourmet meals anywhere else. I think the Geneva Convention prohibits it. Even those of us who do love the lifestyle, in the end we also love returning home and back to real food, solid ground, and new faces.
Eleven more days and a wake up until we go home.
Previous posts:
May 5
May 7
May 9
May 10
May 12
May 13
May 17
May 18
May 19
May 21
May 23
May 26
May 28
June 2
June 3
June 6
June 8
June 12
*Paul Kemp is a pseudonym. The student has asked that his name be withheld out of respect for those with whom he is sailing.
June 17- Here we float rocking 20 degrees or more from side to side in no more then a five-foot swell--I’m convinced the deck department doesn’t believe in ballasting a boat—and thinking about when we will return home and what we will be doing when we get there.
For the first few weeks on a ship, our minds are usually centered on the tasks we have set before us, and we pay little attention to when we will be getting back. But then, at some unforeseen marker, we all become tired of this small steel island we find ourselves imprisoned on.
For most of us, these ships that wander the world oceans will become our homes for months at a time pulling us away from our loved ones or simply from the things we love to do. But this is the path we have chosen.
Of course, some after this cruise will choose to never go back. The days are long at sea with often little reward except a hot meal that more often than not is surplus World War II era canned food--one truly cannot find such gourmet meals anywhere else. I think the Geneva Convention prohibits it. Even those of us who do love the lifestyle, in the end we also love returning home and back to real food, solid ground, and new faces.
Eleven more days and a wake up until we go home.
Previous posts:
May 5
May 7
May 9
May 10
May 12
May 13
May 17
May 18
May 19
May 21
May 23
May 26
May 28
June 2
June 3
June 6
June 8
June 12
*Paul Kemp is a pseudonym. The student has asked that his name be withheld out of respect for those with whom he is sailing.
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