Retraction, The USS "My Buddy" and Costa Rica Trip '08, Part VIII (Finale)

Concerning my entry entitled "BFF," which was about creatures being chummy with their Creator, I have been shown and have read the flood of scriptural argument. I realize now that Jesus does in fact call us "friend," but I stand by the sentiment. Semantically, it's definitely not the same as what we have here on Earth. Still, my apologies for the wrongful use of words.

What kind of ship never sinks? Friendship! I am delighted more and more to be a part of people's lives here in Texas. I hate what I'm about say because the words are trite, but I'll do everything I can to clarify. I have met amazing people here. By that, I mean that they literally amaze me, that I am awestruck by the sorts of people they are. Fine and knowledgeable Christians, morally upright and intelligent, and we have a lot in common to boot. I've found a thriving swing dancing scene and met more great folks there. I have nervously eased back out onto the dating stage - even if it is a virtual one - and have learned a lot about myself and the sorts of people at large as a result. Experience finds its value in learning - I've been mulling this over thanks to the intellectual challenge presented by one of the aforementioned great people. And what I mean by that statement is that the things that happen to us - no matter how trivial or monumental - are only of value to us if we learn from them. And I'm not talking about life lessons, or pivotal moments, or anything like as dramatic. It can be something as simple someone paying you the tiniest of courtesies, and being reminded that there are decent people out there. But if the events of your life go unnoticed, if you have no reason to mark their passing and your daily external stimuli fail to alter your brain with even the most minute of wrinkles... then they may as well have not occurred at all - at least, as far as you're concerned. Sorry - bunni trail. :P

15 April
--Backtracking Again... Again--
13 April (cont.): The cloud forest was just a little disappointing, since there [were] precisely zero clouds. But what the forest lacked in clouds, it more than made up for in vistas. We got an incredible view of Arenal from an observation tower on the first trail we hiked. We even heard / felt a burp from the volcano. Great Success! The forest itself was very different from Corcovado. All the trees were covered in a sort of nebulous-looking moss. It was significantly quieter, too, allowing us to hear some really cool bird calls and, in many cases, to find their sources. Totally different scene. Also, randomly, some guy told us "Bye!" as he exited the park with his family. Much merriment resulted on our part, though it was neat to see someone being so friendly. That was pretty much the extent of our excitement for the day, and most of the evening was spent in a restaurant called The Tree House. The gimmick here was that an enormous tree grew right through the center of the place, which was pretty neat. We treated ourselves to a nice dinner and some excellent Spanish guitar. The guy even played Classical Gas. After that, it was back to the playpen for bedtime.
14 April: Finised The Problem of Pain, and it's definitely gonna require a few more reads. I really wish I had gotten into Lewis's philosophical works earlier than I did. I think I even bought Mere Christianity on nothing but a whim. Anywho, we started to La Fortuna via taxi-boat-taxi. Not a bad little ride - very scenic views of the Costa Rican countryside, and of course, the volcano looming ever closer. It amazes, the way it distinguishes itself form the rest of the landscape. There's just no doubt in the mind that you're looking at an active volcano. The charred and ashen slopes are a bit of a giveaway, too, but I'm really just talking about its geometry. Also, I didn't realize it, but the lava flows don't actually flow, per se. The lava builds up and cools in the crater, then bounces down the slope, exploding and burning as it goes. We got to see this on the touristy tour we took upon arriving in La Fortuna. I can only pray that it will be among the memories I keep forever. After watching the lava, we got to spend two hours in real, bona-fide hot springs. Oh, I can't remember the last time I was so relaxed. One of the pools was somewhat spoiled by a young couple apparently unable to restrain themselves - even in plain sight of a dozen other people - so Jesse and I had a lot of fun at their expense. Take that, lewd acts! We wrapped the evening up with a nice meal and an air-conditioned sleep. Muy bueno.
15 April / Today: Actually, not a lot going on. Lazy morning, internet time, taxi-boat-taxi back to Santa Elena. We're enjoying the ambiance of this other, better hostel. It's full of hippies but it's very mellow. I can dig it. Jersee is hell-bent on me fetching some food for him. Ha! (2007, 15 April)

So ends my travel journal for Costa Rica. It is incomplete, I know, but all you're really missing is the trek back to San Jose and the flight out. It was a life-changing trip for me and I learned more things about more things than I would ever have thought possible.

"The total pattern, of which [the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Christ] are only the turning point, is the real Death and Rebirth: for certainly no seed ever fell from so fair a tree into so dark and cold a soil as would furnish more than a faint analogy to this huge descent and reascension in which God dredged the salt and oozy bottom of Creation."
--C.S. Lewis, Miracles

Costa Rica Trip '08 Part VII

11 April
--Slacker--
Yep, I slacked it up good. I missed three days of writing! I'll go ahead and get today out of the way: not much goin' on. The bus ride back to San Jose was long, but (somewhat) restful. We got a meat lover's pizza (delicious) and watched subbed American TV. It was nice not to feel so far from home.
Yesterday wasn't too much different. Up with the sun (instead of before it) and an hour of beach walking to Carate, a two-hour ride in the back of a taxi truck - leg cramps galore - and a day in dirty Puerto Jimenez. Again, not eventful. The hike from Sirena to La Leona was... interesting. Most of it was on the beach, which turned out to be murder on backpackers. I did see some amazing scenes, though, and we got to beach-bum a little along the way. Nothing quite like lying on the beach, under the palms, sun peeking through the clouds... Not too hot, not chilly, maccaws squawking overhead, hermit crabs scuttling purposefully on the sand...
In other words: Paradise. (2030, 11 April)

14 April
--Backtracking Again--
12 April: Unnecessarily long bus ride from San Jose to Santa Elena. I spent most of the ride asleep or gaming; from what I saw of the landscape, I didn't miss much, although Jesse says there were some pretty parts. Our arrival in Gatlinburg... er, Santa Elena was immediately fraught with peril. Little did I know that the hostel we had reserved required payment in cash. Cash! We had all but spent what we had gotten in Puerto Jimenez. And so began our epic journey through the town to find a working dinero machina - "working" meaning "would take MasterCard." We did eventually find one [...] Long story short, we got enough money to pay for our stay. This hostel isn't very nice, though, and I suppose we should've heeded the wallpapering of signs that said, "We don't have many rules, but here are a few..." Jesse was immediately at war with this guy when he was told not to put his pack on the bed. Internet gets shut off at 10pm, which is also lights out / bedtime. As Jim would say: totally lame-o. That's why...
13 April: We used his internet to find other hostels for our trip back through! Nothing was said, but he very clearly saw the giant headings of his competition in town. Score. But before any of this happened, we went hiking in the Santa Elena cloud forest. More on that later - time for taxi-boat-taxi! (0745, 14 April)

Costa Rica Trip '08, Part VI

9 April

--On Population--

Something I had meant to write about but didn't was the fact that there are so many people at Sirena.  It's not very nice.  Oh, it would be, if they were all mature and/or considerate, but of course they aren't.  So we get woken up by Chatty Kathys and people banging around the tent platform, not to mention that the rest of the day is spent surrounded by loud people playing "Would You Rather."  The stay would've been significantly more enjoyable if, at a minimum, the number of people that were here could've been other than they were.  Of course, that's not possible - things always happen the way they're supposed to.  Was there a reason that these people were obnoxious, or was it just a clash of free wills - the simple fact that they can act as they wish and all I can do is resent them for it?  No; they're enjoying their trip in the way they want.  Just because my idea of a visit to the rainforest is different doesn't make mine right and theirs wrong.  And it's not as though they made my stay at Sirena unenjoyable... there were just a few points of contention.  All things considered, my complaints against them are pretty trivial. I mean, I'm in the RAINFOREST.  How much complaining am I actually allowed to do?

I find myself wishing them a pleasant journey.  And I feel better.  Isn't that nice? (0738, 9 April)

An Awful Lot Like Work / Costa Rica Trip '08, Part V

I started learning Tai Chi Chuan (or taijiquan, however you prefer it) on Monday.  Know how I know these guys are teaching it right?  Not only am I getting beat up in sparring sessions, but it is HARD.  If you see someone practicing their Tai Chi, chances are it's an older (and, let's face it, Chinese) person who's been doing it for a long time.  And you probably think to yourself, "Oh, that's very pretty.  Also, it looks very easy."  As someone learning it from the beginning let me assure you that it is not.  On the other hand, I have something good to wake me up and put me to bed every day.  Great Success!

In daily news, things are well here.  I'm making new friends and getting settled in nicely, I think.  Some concrete plans for the future would be nice, but hey, I'm not greedy.  I'm happy with the way things are going.

How are you, Reader?

8 April

--Day of Rest--

Started off today with a 0530 wakeup call from our tent neighbor.  Apparently he just loves talking to himself.  Ostensibly, he was speaking to his wife, but she didn't say a word.  Eventually I was able to force myself back to sleep.  Blech.

We sat on the deck for a long time in the morning and I started The Problem of Pain.  This one is much more challenging than The Great Divorce, and if nothing else, it reminds me that there is still much I need to learn.  I'm not sure that I agree with all of Lewis's postulations - especially concerning Genesis 1 - but again, I need to learn more about (for example) evolution before I can really decide for myself.  But as always, Lewis does a great job of putting words to the nebulous logic I already possessed - a talent I appreciate more every time I ready his works.

Today's wildlife: crabs, hermit crabs, a jellyfish that I (hopefully) rescued from certain death, a white faced monkey (chacupin? cachupin?  capuchin!), some scarlet maccaws (!), and magically submerging river logs (probably crocs).  Today was mostly about resting up for tomorrow, but we had some fun, too.

--Tidal Pools--

We went down to the beach after our morning relax-fest.  The tide was out - WAY out - and had left behind an alien landscape.  It was less like going to the beach than going to the moon.  Most of the pools were very shallow, but I did get to see a lot of little crabs and fish.  We walked all the way out to the surf and found a pool deeper than the others.  We floated around in that one for some time, apparently missing the landing of a plane.  We did get to see its departure, though.  I waved, but I'm not sure if they saw.  Oh well.  Jesse and I both got stung on the leg by something, whether jellyfish or anemone, I do not know.  It went away pretty quickly.

--Scouting the Trail--

We walked down to the beach again in the afternoon to check out the trail to La Leona.  That's where we finally got close to the maccaws.  Upon emerging onto the trail from the beach, we saw a veritable swarm of hermit crabs pretty far inland.  The ground was almost literally alive with them.  The river we have to cross tomorrow is very wide and, from what I'm told, a meter deep at low tide.  Also, there are crocs and sharks.  So that'll be quite the adventure.

Rain's here.  Time for sleep.  Another glorious day in paradise, Lord.  (2105, 8 April)

BFF / Costa Rica Trip '08, Part IV

We sang a strange song today in church; some of the lyrics were along the lines of "God calls me friend."  I suppose it's kind of strange, but it really struck me as bizarre.  Can we be friends with God?  I don't really think so.  I quoted a passage from Lewis's The Problem of Pain three posts ago in which he makes analogies to differing aspects of God's love.  Maybe it's just a semantic argument, but I don't think friendship is what God has in mind for us.  Can creatures be friendly with their Creator?  

Think about your friends for a moment.  They're probably people you joke with, drink with, spend a lot of time with... but also people you consider your equals, at least in some regard.  As anyone who has spent a few moments around organized religion knows, we can never be equals with God.  We are, by nature, separated by an infinite moral gulf - one which is reconciled through Christ, true, but that doesn't mean we can be like the Most High.  In fact, I'm pretty sure someone got in some trouble for that.  So, distilling everything to a point: I don't think most of the sane people out there consider themselves on par with the Supreme Reality Himself, but you may save yourself from some wrong thinking if you avoid singing or saying, "God calls me His friend."

7 April

--The Long Leg--

Well, today's completion marks what should be the most strenuous part of our excursion.  If the signs are to be believed, we did 17 km in 7 hours, which was just what I had predicted.  We had heard that it takes anywhere from 6 to 10 hours [from Los Patos to Sirena], so I guess we did alright.  We had been under the impression that the trail would be downhill or flat - lied to again!  The first part was up and down a lot, and steep, to boot.  To the credit of whoever told us that, the trail did eventually level out.  Regardless of the slope, my everything hurts again.  I am very pleased (and thank God) that I made it today.  That we made it today.  Wildlife roll call: lots of monkeys, an anteater, a bird that looks like a little emu, ants that make their own roads (!!), a poison dart frog, lots more Jesus lizards, and hopefully some tapir tonight.  The anteater was in a tree - I didn't know they do that!  We also got to see a sloth before leaving Los Patos.  Very cool.  They do everything in slo-mo.  Later in the day, we heard what we think were howler monkeys - very intimidating sounds.  The other monkeys that we saw tried to chase us off by throwing sticks and leaping between branches.  Not quite as scary as the howlers.  And as I sit and write this, seven spider monkeys are climbing into a bare tree in the distance.  Settling in for the night, I suppose.

--The Lodge--

Sirena is very pretty.  Like Los Patos, it's basically been hollowed out of the forest.  It is much bigger and even has its own airstrip (which coincidentally leads to a beach).  I imagine there are even a few trails - we'll find out tomorrow.  We're being buzzed by bats again!  (1711, April 7)

Recent Eventings / Costa Rica Trip '08, Part III

Housewarming party last night!  And it was a good one, in my opinion.  As inconsequential as it may sound, my expectations for the event were changed twice over the course of the day: once in the grocery store as we were making preparations, and once again when the party had gotten underway.  Initially, I thought this was going to be a pretty tame, family-and-friends affair.  I then came to find that no family was invited!  Shock!  Then I began to mentally prep myself for something of a wild night, which exacts a certain mental toll when its beginning is mere hours away.  Once the guests started to arrive, with the relaxing tones of AC/DC in the background, I began to steel myself against the ensuing flood of loud music and tons of people.  This, too, causes some brain stress, especially when you're surprised that none of that happens.  Long story short: it was a quiet and enjoyable evening in with some pretty cool people.

Through the inevitable course of the introductory talk, I was reminded yet again of the stark contrast between my life and a "normal" life - a stigma which reverberates through the last four years of my life as I often and fervently wished for a "normal" college experience.  I love my life.  I'm not sure there's a cooler way for a young, single guy to live.  But it can bear down unfavorably on conversations with nine-to-fivers, and I guess I can understand why.  Stories tend to monopolize the discourse, sometimes salary comparisons arise...  Meh.  I had fun last night, and I think our guests did, too, but sometimes things just weigh on you, y'know?

6 April

--Into the Wild--

We started our rainforest trek today.  We got warmed up in the forest surrounding Danta.  A nice couple of hours, and we saw so much: a monkey (!!), a toucan, all sorts of lizards (including the aptly-named Jesus lizard, which I've just learned is actually a basilisk), frogs, birds and of course a whole mess of trees.  Wouldn't be much of a forest without them, after all.  We got some awful directions from a woman from Minnesota and lost an hour of time with wrong turns.  One of these was basically straight uphill and 100% mud.  So we wore ourselves out on that and were tired and sore for the rest of the day.  The walk, once we found the road, was just gorgeous.  Huge trees practically bursting with vitality.  We saw some scarlet maccaws and more toucans.  The pictures really say more than I can.  There was one tree that stuck me as particularly beautiful.  It was white, with no bark, and a very smooth trunk.  There were no leaves until the top, when it spread out like an umbrella.  I don't know why it struck me so deeply.  I wanted very badly to touch the trunk, but the base was very overgrown.  More's the pity.

The hike from the trailhead to Los Patos was just a grueling as our unintentional detour earlier.  So even now, hours after the hike's end, my feet and back are screaming at me and I am chafed like I've never been chafed before.  I really hope I'm up for tomorrow.  We met a very nice couple from Gatlinburg whose itinerary is identical to ours.  They invited us to hike with them, but I think we'll be going ahead on our own.  I hate to turn down such a generous offer - they're paying for a guide - but it would spoil what we came here for.

And now, I think I'll stop writing.  The tent is very hot, as is the flashlight I'm holding.  Tomorrow's hike will be twice as long; hopefully there will be twice as much to write.  (1955, 6 April)

Costa Rica Trip '08, Part II

3-5 April (cont.)

I write now from the Autotransportes Blanco station.  We are on our way... or will be soon.  The taxi ride through San Jose reminded me that I wanted to write about the traffic here.

I am amazed that people here get around with - apparently - no accidents.  Through all the unbelievably dangerous driving we've experienced so far, we haven't seen a single accident.  Thinking of it now does make me shudder at the prospect of the bus ride.  Like our other automotive forays so far, I'm sure we'll arrive safely at our intended destination.  On the traffic itself, though: there seem to be no traffic laws to speak of.  There are no lanes, only a few lines, and not many more traffic lights.  Yet somehow, it all works.  It's like the "ordered chaos" you always hear people talking about.  That's also the phrase I use to describe my room, coincidentally.  So my room is as structured as San Jose traffic...?  Oddly appropriate.  (On a side note, we are apparently waiting for the bus directly opposite a woman scientist.  She looks like a scientist.)

So, ordered chaos.  I don't feel uncomfortable admitting there's a strange sort of beauty in seeing such a mess work so perfectly.  Maybe it's the ever-emerging engineer in me.  Somehow the idea of being able to fit anywhere from one to four lanes of cars in the same space makes me smirk and giggle to myself.  Maybe it's part mild culture shock and part novelty. I don't feel culture shocked, though.

[...]

And now we are well and properly on our way.  We've been on the bus for nearly four hours and, with the exception of the city we just stopped in, the landscape has grown progressvely wilder.  I snapped a few pictures, but I'm afraid they won't come out.

More later - bumps making writing tough. (1550, 5 April)

--On the Bus / Nightfall--

More erratic writing - still on the bus.  The bus is interesting.  It's quite a bit nicer than expected, since we expected an old American school bus.  But no, we have fairly comfortable seats and, although the engine is loud and the windows rattle, it's not a bad ride.  When someone wants to pass the bus, [the bus driver] checks the oncoming traffic and waves them on it's safe.  The acknowledge eachother with a honk - ours is a great goose-sounding honk, more than loud enough to stir me from any napping.  We stop for everyone.  Some of them are vendors with food, some are people just getting a leg up on the trip home.

Jesse said it best earlier: "It gets prettier every time I open my eyes."  As profound as it sounds, he was actually talking about waking from a nap.  But either way, it's absolutely true. The scenery here takes my breath away.  The stars ay be the only greater testament to the power, flory, and aesthetic taste of God.  (1756, 5 April)

--At the Lodge--

Finally free from that rickety bus ride!  The last hour or so was more stressful than the rest since we had no clue how far we were from anything.  The original plan was to spend tonight in Puerto Jimenez, but that would have required a long and expensive cab ride back to the trailhead in La Palma.  So instead, we disembarked in La Palma, resolved to walk the 1.8-ish miles to the lodge if necessary.  Thank God we were met at the stop by a taxi driver!  The ride itself was taken in the back of his pickup, allowing us to see clearly the numerous times we would have risked mugging by walking.  It seems at every turn that the Lord is protecting us on this journey.  I look forward to witnessing the splendor of His creation in the days to come.

But for now, I'm relaxing after a long day of travel.  The lodge we're in tonight is made totally from wood, and what's more, wood from trees that were already and naturally felled only.  Not a single tree was cut down to build this place.  And it's magnificent!  Already, since our arrival, we've seen lizards hunting and playing, heard monkeys in the nearby woods and seen a bug literally as big as my head, although Jesse thinks (and I now agree) that it's probably a bat.  There's so much life here!  Even just sitting here in what I'll call, for want of a better word, the living room.  The constant chirruping of the crickets is punctuated now and again by the croaking of frogs the likes of which I've never heard.  Now if only we could do something about that awful music from the fiesta...  (2100, 5 April)

PS - It's definitely a bat.  We just got buzzed.

Jiggity-Jig!

I am home again, but I'm afraid I've bought no pigs or hogs.  The trip.  Was.  AMAZING.  Never have I felt so constantly and completely connected with and integral to Creation.  I know that may require a second glance.  Sorry 'bout that.  The rainforest was everything you ever learned in school.  Compared with my expectations, we were practically accosted by monkeys.  We saw an anteater, a sloth, a pizote, a saino (no, I didn't know what those were before the trip), toucans, macaws, parrots, parakeets, and ants that build their own roads.  I was floored, and delighted to be there.  The flora were vibrant; everywhere were vines, moss and flowers covering the already-vital trees.  It rained every day for at least a few hours, usually in the afternoon.  We were constantly surrounded by the sounds and smells of life.  It was... awesome, in the truest sense of the word.

I also kept a pen-and-paper journal of my trip, from which I will be copying in part for your viewing pleasure!  I can almost guarantee you won't get the full version here.  C'est la vie.

Costa Rica Trip '08

3-5 April

Unfortunately, I left the notebook I meant to use at home. Not a big deal, but it does translate to a lag between thinking and recording.  Today, Jesse and I are headed to the deep south of the country, to a town called Puerto Jimenez.  It's supposedly between 8-10 hours, so we'll see how that pans out.  We worry quite a bit about item placement, vis-a-vis mugging.  Jesse instructed me in the ways of the dummy wallet.  Clever yet simple, and something I hadn't even thought of.  Even after living in New York for four years, I don't do well with defensive thinking.  I started The Great Divorce on the plane and finished it this morning.  Not good, since the only other book I brought is The Problem of Pain, which is no thicker.  Anyway, observations:

--San Jose--

At once a lovely and ugly place.  It also depends on where you are in the city.  There are little parks everywhere, and one big one on the western edge of the city (also where the US Embassy is).  There is no shortage of plant life, with varying amounts of visible vitality, but there is also no shortage of poverty and its entourage.  I had a young boy hit his knees begging me for money yesterday, right in the middle of the sidewalk.  Even in New York, I never saw someone really beg like that.  I didn't give him anything, a fact which still bothers me now.  I know we're called to charity, but so many beggars are either liars or will simply use their "earnings" for booze.  It also seems to me an all-or-nothing philosophy - either give money to every beggar or to none.  Otherwise, on what criteria does one base their judgment?  Essentially, it's like saying you can tell who's lying and who isn't, and that your decision of who is deserving is the right one.  Still, perhaps erring on the side of charity is better.

More later. (1007, 5 April)

"You asked for a loving God: you have one.  The great spirit you so lightly invoked, the 'lord of terrible aspect,' is present: not a senile benevolence that drowsily wishes you to be happy in your own way, not the cold philanthropy of a conscientious magistrate, nor the care of a host who feels responsible for the comfort of his guests, but the consuming fire Himself, the Love that made the worlds, persistent as the artist's love for his work and despotic as a man's love for his dog, provident and venerable as a father's love for a child, jealous, inexorable, exacting as love between the sexes... it passes reason to explain why any creatures... should have a value so prodigious in their Creator's eyes."

--CS Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Time for Adventure

Funny how things run away with you.  Here, I started this shiny new blog and totally meant to jot down all my insights, and it's been some time since my last post.  Apologies all around!

As you may or may not know, I leave for Costa Rica in but one short day, and for two weeks which are bound to be too short by far.  It has occurred to me several times since undertaking this epic journey that this is probably the most adventuresome thing I've ever done.  Thanks to the help of my stalwart friends, I know how to ask about both bathrooms and parties in Spanish.  Apparently, this is all I need to navigate the country.  :P  But honestly, several of you have passed along important words to know and I want to assure that they are well and properly committed to memory.  And I do appreciate it, an awful lot.  And if it puts your mind at ease at all, it seems my biggest worries are packs of wild pigs.  My shots are up to date and I'm well-stocked with provisions, so I figure if I can find room in my pack for a pork cookbook, I can intimidate the pigs into leaving me alone.  I may have to teach them how to read first.

I'm moved into my new home in Texas and, aside from taking all of my money, the area's been good to me so far.  My housemate and I found a good church, there's plenty of everything in the area for just about anything I could conceive of needing, and it's 80 degrees in March.  My tune may change come July, but on the other hand, we've got A/C and I'm a certified tech.  Sweets!

Fair winds, following seas, and STAY FROSTY.

"Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and enkindles the great."

--Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

On Living in Two Worlds OR The Secret Society of Mariners

So I totally meant to be asleep a few hours ago. Now, I know two meaningful posts in one waking day is highly irregular coming from me. But I promised you this one, Reader, and I just read a poem that made me come here and write this. It's out of order, but so what? It's my blog and I'll juggle it if I want to.

It's really hard to be an essentially good guy. Anyone who's ever known a nice guy knows this, as they probably spent some time listening to heated outpourings of under-appreciation. That having been said, it is damn near impossible to be a good person at sea. That's a loaded statement, and I'll explain why. I'll even start at the beginning. Ain't I a sweetheart?

When you think of seafarers, you probably conjure up a salty, grizzled, sour, wrinkly old man with pegs sticking out from various parts of his body. That's okay. A lot of mariners strive to project that persona, sans pegs. But the question to ask is, "Why, Chad? Why do they so strive?" After a few years of extensive, immersed study, I'm afraid my answer is disappointing and discouraging in its simplicity. We do it because that's what we imagine seafarers to be like, too. We drink, we swear, and we tell jokes so off-color they'd make a Crayola box blush. And I'm not talking about the little one that fit in your pencil box. No no. I'm talking about the huge one, the three-million-color one that you always tried (and failed) to keep organized like it started out. The greatest minds of the last generation propelled us - pun intended -out of the days of sail and into a new technological era, one that required finely educated minds to keep these newfangled steamers running. So all these brilliant minds step into a profession famous for its denizens, and what happens? Nothing. The ships steam on, and the crews stay salty.

Now, my fellows are saying, "That's what we're most proud of!" I feel that pride too. I'll never forget the first time someone called me salty. Never. And I'll always recall it fondly. But I also can't shake the looming feeling of my duplicitous lifestyle. And those of you who ship probably do it, too, or have heard this said: "I never drink / dip / cuss when I'm ashore. The old lady would kill me if I did that stuff at home." I can tell you why I undergo this metamorphosis: because it's easier than being at odds with your fellows. There's always this awkward adjustment period when a new guy signs on; everyone's feeling him out, getting an idea of which box they can stuff him in. There are guys who come out and preach the gospel, there are crazies who hear voices, there are loners, and bastards, and whistleblowers, and idiots... and there are Alright Guys. Everyone on the ship wants to be an Alright Guy - a good shipmate, someone who's fun to be around, someone who doesn't stifle the mood during coffee time. It is very difficult to be completely different from the people you are trapped in a floating steel box with, so the obvious, easy and human solution is to be more like them. Facilitate good relations. Be a good shipmate. Be an Alright Guy.

Don't get me wrong, Reader. I'm not shifting responsibility. Every word we say, everything we do to interact, is done by choice. What I'm trying to say here is that I regret my choices to go along and get along. It's hard to convey to others how vital it seems to do your part to make your shipmates happy, and just how miserable a voyage can be when you're all by yourself. I'll say it here, although of course the proof is in the pudding: I'm going to do my level best not to change who I am, or who I want to be, simply because I think it'll make coffee time less awkward. Call it a re-dedication; it's something I've been stewing over for years now.

The really difficult thing is this: I want to be a good person who does the right thing. And yet, I seem to feel this to be the polar opposite of how most mariners want to act. Is this gross pessimism on my part? Surely nobody walks onto a ship and says, "I want to do things that would embarrass people back home." Am I oversimplifying the collective character of mariners everywhere? I guess time will tell as I begin my new experiment: how the crew reacts to someone who doesn't try to fit in all the damn time.

Ah yes, the poem. I doubt it was written to convey the things I've expressed in prose here, but that's certainly how it spoke to me:

This Broken Magic, written by Katherine Bauer
I lie on the edges
Where these two worlds meet
Into both of them I’m bleeding here.
By both of them I’m beat.

Tossed between dominions
Of the water and the sun
I won’t become dry
But as hard as I try
I’ll never reach the deep.

Relentlessly I’m pounded
Where the sea meets the land
This cruelty creates in me
This broken magic

I can’t belong to the world of flood
The world where waters rage
But I can’t seem to find
The right state of mind
To live within the cage.

So here I will forever be
Tossed between the worlds
Broken and useless
Invisible.

Relentlessly I’m pounded
Where the sea meets the land
This cruelty creates in me
This broken magic.

The funny thing about this life
Is how it grows on me
The beating that once felt so harsh
Is putting me to sleep.

Soft and full of comfort now,
Water, sky, and soul
As I break to pieces
I feel that I am whole

Relentlessly it’s pounding
Where the sea meets the land
Their cruelty creates in me
This broken magic – sand.

Full of all the places
Mixed with other lives
I am just one tiny piece
Of the magic from the tide

Hear the music,
Of the hard shells becoming
Weightless,
Timeless
I hold them in my hand

Relentlessly it’s pounding
Where the sea meets the land
Their cruelty creates in me
This broken magic - sand

(Obtained from Lydia Pitts)

November Blues

Song by the Avett Brothers I stumbled upon while perusing their website. I'm posting the lyrics here, silly and blog-ish as it is, since I like them. I inquired about them to the person who recommended them, and they pointed me toward the website. I've gotta say, I wasn't crazy about their sound when first I heard them. I attribute this primarily to the fact that I was expecting something conventional - something that would fit in the neat little Boxes of Genres. I didn't realize how much I leaned on conventional/majority definitions of styles until I couldn't place what the hell these guys are playing. They are at once all and none of the following: bluegrass, country, rock, metal (I guess - they scream a lot), and even a little pop. I don't care for all of their songs, but the ones I like, I like. I'm told and have read that these guys are phenomenal live. I actually just downloaded a live album and can already tell why.

I guess this song speaks to me for the same reason it would (and likely does) speak to many others: I can identify with it. These guys are describing things I've felt and experienced in the past - in this case, to a degree of almost frightening accuracy. But again, I think those experiences are part of the human experience, things we all go through at some point to differing degrees, and in different ways. I enjoy songs like this for the same reason I enjoy quotes: they say things about me, or to me, more succinctly than I could. If I could do what these guys do, and what quotable historical figures do, I would. Then I would be rich and famous and frequently quoted.

Long story short: if you're looking for something to change up your playlist, I recommend them.

"November Blues" by The Avett Brothers
And if I weren't leavin',
Would I catch you dreamin'?
And if I weren't gonna be gone now,
Could I take you home?

And if I told you that I loved you,
Would it change what you see?
And if I was stayin',
Would you stay with me?

And if I had money,
Would it all look good?
And if I had a job now,
Like a good man should?

And if I came to you tomorrow
And said, "Let's run away,"
Would you roll like the wind does -
Baby, would you stay?

My heart is dancin'
To a November tune,
And I hope that you hear it
Singin' songs about you.

I sing songs of sorrow
Because you're not around.
See, babe, I'm gone tomorrow.
Baby, follow me down.

And I don't know why I have to,
But this man must move on.
I loved my time here,
Didn't know 'til I was gone.

November shadows,
Shade, November, change.
November spells sweet memories,
The season blue remains.

Your yellow hair is like the sunlight,
However sweet it shines.
Bit by the cold of December,
I'm warm beside your smile.

Oh, lady, tell me I'm not leavin',
You're everything I dreamed.
I'm killin' myself thinkin'
I've fallen like the leaves.

I'm killin' myself thinkin'
I've fallen like the leaves.

PS - Check Facebook soon for beach camping pictures.