Because we have gotten all stations done except for two north of Miami, the captain has decided to make a port call there. We will be there in a few hours and then head out on Saturday morning. I wish that we were going to finish up the two stations and just head back home rather than make the port call.
It's been a bit rough today but the temperature is delightful. The breeze has kept the deck comfortable which is good. I haven't seen the little bird that's on board but assume that it has hunkered down during the blow.
I imagine that it will be awkward to step on land. I generally still rock and sway, feeling almost "landsick" once I get off the ship. Anyway, it will be interesting to hear more from the crew regarding their reaction to the port call.
Today I was mulling over the type of life that career mariners must have. My uncle spent 50 years at sea. He left home at 15 and hawespiped his way up to Captain. He commanded quite a few cruise ships back when the US had a good run from New York to Rio de Janiero and Buenos Aires. He was at sea when his wife was notified that their only son had been killed in France during WWII. I can only imagine that heartbreak for her and for him. I have her diary and have read the pages of despair. I think that she was forever different after her son was killed.
This isn't a life for those who want to have all the "normalcy" of life. I'm not sure what type of person decides to make this a career but it has always been touted as one for mavericks and scallywags. The career mariner definitely finds something very compelling about the job. I find it a good escape but then I know that I can go home to my own job.
One of the old timers on here is retiring and told me that he just wants to be land bound when he gets off this ship. He has been at sea for 30 plus years. He said that he's seen all kinds of fantastic things but without anyone there to share them with, it was just a job. I heard him loud and clear. That seems to be the case with most things in life--without sharing it with someone some of the great moments seem tepid.