A sailor

     Life of a sailor can only be understood by one who has sailed the vast oceans of the world. The sights and smells of saltwater cling to your bones a constant reminder of who you are. Night watches on a dark ship the moonlight guiding you too far away lands. The crashing of waves against the hull can put you to sleep, but pots of coffee keep you alert for unseen dangers that lurk in the darkness.

     Daylight and the smell of bacon from the mess hall waits for watch change and quick steps to fill the emptiness of the past six hours. Its rack time for you now but you go topside to see the sunrise and breath in the clean salt air. Nothing but open sea for as far as the eye can see

     A few hours of sleep and your up and doing jobs required. The signal shack needs a coat of paint, the flag bag as well. The deck always needs cleaning ridding it of salt that gathers with every lash of spray. The one constant that you have are moments to yourself when everything surrounding you is captured in your memory bank to see again when the sea leaves you behind on dry land. That won’t happen for a while yet, but you still dread the day.

     Many voyages and ports of call that filled you with knowledge and back ally moments never to be spoken of but forever remembered. Drunken sailors with money to burn, a familiar sight to the locals whose mission was to relieve us of all we had. So many times, we walked back to port our pockets empty, our hearts bursting with happiness.

     The life of a sailor can only be understood by those who have rung more salt out of their socks than others have sailed on. It's a calling from the deep that can't go unanswered. A challenge of body, mind, and spirit. Only a real sailors heartbeat is in unison with the crashing of waves against the hull.

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