5 months at Sea


The journey began rather without an invitation aboard the ship on a cold Saturday morning in the month of January just as boys gathered to have some fun and shake off the cold. I was done with my daily trip to the stream and was all set for what I thought was going to be yet another regular Saturday. Safe to say, it wasn’t.
On the pitch, getting ready to show what I was made of, then I got d invite…the sound was unmistakable, it was loud and it came from within me. Somehow despite all the alarms raised around me, I knew the sober truth…my space aboard the ship was sealed. One would wonder what the harm was in going aboard a ship ready to leave port, well none really except if that was not how you figured you would spend a few months of your life.
Quickly, resources were put together, some friends called, others came around and family also played their part, all in a bid to ensure I had got all the support I needed considering it was going to be my first time at sea for a duration we could only guess. In reality I wasn’t so much as scared as I was unhappy, for it seemed to me that all my plans for staying on land would have to be placed on hold because before me I had I journey I literally couldn’t say no to.
Aboard the ship as we continued steadily on water, the words closely associated with the journey would be: boring, lonely, depressing, some more depression. But silently the words: hope, comfort and strength also occasionally emerged. Despite all the obvious challenges we had at sea, I was still comforted knowing that all was going to be well. Somehow I believed that even though we were met with turbulent waves, icebergs and the occasional bad weather, we were still on course to reach our destination safely. Now though, with the harbor in sight, the journey thus far seems rather uneventful. Hopefully I can put all the events behind me when I get on land and enjoy air that is devoid of the smell of open waters. I did bring a souvenir, not a fish or any sea creature for that matter, but a rod. Yes, a titanium rod, which I believe would always serve as a reminder of my ordeal at sea, if I ever try to forget.

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