sail away, sail away, sail away…

Frank and I sat talking inside a cafe together while rain pelted the street. Comfortable moments of silence passed between us as I crossed my legs, and then sat on them, and then placed the bottoms of my feet on the chair I was sitting in, pulling my knees close with my arms. I tend to fidget.

 

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While I adjusted and readjusted, Frank told me about the cute old hippie couple he and his wife had watched perform during 2 AM cruise ship karaoke a few years back. He said that the two of them would perform, wait for a few others to go on stage, and then put their names right back on the list.

I laughed. “Have I told you about my carrier ship plans?”

“No…”

“Okay.” So I explained. And come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve told you guys about this yet either, so here’s my plan.

***

Jace’s Carrier Ship Plan

I don’t know when this is going to happen (I’m hoping for next summer while betting it’ll be closer to my summer graduation in ’20), but I have every intention of boarding a carrier ship and traveling from this country to another one. In my mind, I’ve been picturing leaving (aka disembarking — sea lingo) out of NY or some other state on the east coast, but when Frank mentioned earlier that lots of ships leave from places as close as Mobile and New Orleans, it created a staggering number of options in my mind. Tabling this “point of departure” aspect for now (as well as how, exactly, I’m going to get ON a carrier ship… at this very moment, my best ideas would be to offer to A. mop the deck, mate, B. cook vegetarian food for the crew, or C. play guitar for the fishes).

But the real thing of the matter is this: I need to be with the sea for a while. I realized this about eight weeks ago after an odd fixation on the Drake Passage. I can vividly remember driving down Some Number Avenue South one morning, on my way to the cafe (like usual), when it hit me right outta the sea-green blue: GO SAIL ACROSS THE FRICKIN OCEAN; DUH! It made complete sense then, and I still (mostly) believe in it.

And I know the easy slash normal thing to do would be to simply book a cruise, but I don’t want to go on a cruise because I don’t want to be caught up in endless rounds of cruise festivities with a bunch of noisy and intoxicated humans. I’m craving, not a party or an escape, but a quiet bout of solitude with storms and sunshine and just a little bit of danger — where I’ve got time to reflect and wonder and let the salt dry on my skin without having to shower it off for school or work. I feel like it’ll be really magical and really cleansing.

And assuming I leave out of NY (again, this is still up in the air), depending upon the weather, it can take 10-14 days to make it to Europe via ship. Once there, I’d like to ride my bike and take trains and stay in hostels as I adventure my way through the continent — and mostly, I’d like to visit these places: England (bc Spice Girls), Spain and Portugal (bc Espanol), and Germany (bc German Shepherds). I also think that, around this same time, writing a book about being at sea would be quite interesting… the theme sounds sorta classic, doesn’t it?

 

hemingway on turtles

 

One of the nicest things Frank shared with me was in response to something I told him.

I pulled up a running draft within Gmail and read off a few quotes, explaining: “My professor specifically told us to eavesdrop on folks, so I started doing that last year — jotting down interesting, isolated tidbits from people’s conversations so I could build characters based on them later and craft dialogue that rang true…” I paused.

“Anyways, I wanna throw these into an illustrated book someday, but here — here’s my favorite one. I was watching this little girl run around with her friends at the park one afternoon when she stopped suddenly and exclaimed: ‘A PICNIC BASKET! I’m off to my picnic now, and I’m never coming home.'”

I loved it, but it also made me a little sad, because you read it the first time and laugh, right? It’s cute. But then, you start reading into it… and I don’t know.

 

But here’s the thing Frank shared: He pulled a collection of small cards out from his wallet — on them, he’s written down lines he’s liked — and one of them was so beautiful I plan on getting it tattooed someday, right above, underneath, or beside a bunny ghost (which is what I wanted to be for Halloween this year): “It was crazy. I turned into a ghost, and I was like whatever.”

 

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Two random things:

  1. Can’t end this post without thanking Enya.
  2. I’ve got a sad little EP hitting (or rather: cruising its way over to) Spotify in a few days here… woohooooooo! If YOU like listening to gloomy tunes, my artist name is (as you might’ve already guessed) Aun Aqui.

 

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Still here,

Aun Aqui

One thought on “sail away, sail away, sail away…

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