Boat life

I used to work on a ship in the Pacific, and these were my experience and thoughts.

More boat journal entries

Blonde hair

Translucent eyes of glass

Crows feet outline his eyes

He doesn’t ever look my way. Ever.

Except sometimes.

And we lock eyes. Silent. Distant.

He has a quiet side that looks as if it weighs on him.

He is filled with mystery and I have to stop myself from running my tongue across my lips when I see him.

I am filled with desire, a pull that I crave. Why am I always attracted to guys with such a deep look that scares me and thrills me at the same time.


She always comes in, pushing for attention. Always wanting to be sought. It’s quite strange. One who is always in need for things that are fleeting.


What is it about this place life that everyone desires? The freedom? The adventure? Millionaires pay money to see what we see every single day. What is it that they are looking for that we find? A piece of our past? A familiarity? A longing to be what we once were?


“We literally take people on vacation, how hard can it be?” –J



I’m sitting in a room of people I hardly know. It’s quite comforting and strange, I feel as if we are all connected in a strange and unforeseen way. There is a camaraderie, arguing, sexual tension, a constant unfolding of personalities, a clash here, a sideways glance there; vulnerability lingering in the air, a guard comes down gradually, a fragile and irreplaceable bond. A certain element that we all have in common; the wanderers the yearning for something more out of life, the unexplainable connection that brought us all here together,  and will connect us for as long as we all keep rolling along under this oil spill of stars.


beneath the surface