The Solace of a Handrail

It has been about two days since we lost sight of land. On deck, we are greeted by undulating, prussian blue waves as far as the eye can see.

Sometimes the waves are frothy, threatening to break on top of us with every swell, pushing us around with reckless abandon. At other times, they gleam in the sunlight, playfully jostling our boat and waving hello through the galley portholes. Surprisingly, being removed from all signs of terrestrial life has been a lot less scary than I had imagined it would be. It is astonishing how quickly I have become accustomed to my new life on the Robert C. Seamans. I have become accustomed to my tiny bunk, packed close together with familiar faces and new ones, to being woken up at odd hours of the night to stand watch for the boat, to hunching over in the stuffy engine room, making sure all the machines are functioning as they should be. I am even getting accustomed, albeit slowly, to the constant motion that defines the life of a sailor.

In the past few days, I have stubbed my toes no less than ten times. I have learned that if you don't have one hand available at any given time, you have no chance of steadying yourself when the boat encounters a strong wave.

It has been amusing to discover how many things have been strategically placed around the boat to help people balance themselves. In the galley, we have poles and handrails and benches to grab onto (but if you ever make the grave mistake of grabbing onto the gimballed tables, yours or a fellow shipmate's lunch will be promptly launched into the air). In the bunk space, there are handrails on the ceiling that you can swing onto from an upper bunk to steadily descend onto the ground. In the engine room, amidst the hot metallic pipes and whirring machines, the solace offered by a wooden handrail in a moment of unstable despair is unparalleled.

Sleeping on a moving ship has also been an interesting experience. On days when the conditions are calm, I love being lulled to sleep by the gentle waves. But on some nights, it is impossible to avoid hitting every solid surface in my bunk, making restful sleep a little harder to come by.

Despite the turbulence of this rocky new world, I already know that when I'm back on land, I will miss it. For the first time in my life, I am surrounded by my favorite part of the earth, gravity is unreliable and relenting, the only people I can talk to are the ones I live with, and the work I do is not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of my ship and my wonderful shipmates.

To my family and friends, I miss you so much! I hope you all are doing so well. I already have many, many stories to share with all of you.

(Love you and miss you Baba, Amma, Sohi and Mowgli)

By Maitri Rangarajan Paul