Vacation Time!

Let’s be clear about vacations: memorable does not always equal enjoyable. If it did a cruise in a 1940’s era aircraft carrier ( USS Wasp) to Guantanamo, could qualify. Been there, done that, memorable, but not enjoyable. Similarly, summers spent helping the Cap’n, my first father-in-law, were memorable but only sometimes enjoyable.

I have many memories of life along the coast, but unlike casual visitors, it wasn’t eating lobster rolls at restaurants or visiting the shops in town.
The Cap’n was a retired Master Mariner, a captain. His idea of retirement was keeping busy maintaining his 34-foot ketch, Psyche, and getting involved in various building and restoration projects he thought would make money. Having an able son-in-law offered further scope to his plans. Wes ( as I was then known) could help.

I came half-trained. My father, a former Marine Engineer, had already put years into my training. I had been helping out in the engine rooms of small commercial fishing vessels since age nine.

The Bridge and Engine room frequently see things differently, and the Cap’n saw this as an opportunity to rectify bad habits formed early. Do you need help restoring that old Grand Banks dory? We can handle this! I can put Wes to work scraping and sanding that old varnish off.

Let’s see…over the years, I learned how to build a small marine railroad for “hauling” lobster boats out for repair, general boat maintenance, some basic rigging, and how to be a “fair to middlin’ ” varnisher. OK, I also learned to “hand, reef, and steer” in a sailboat – the basic skills of an Able-bodied seaman.
Every fall, I returned to grad school. My colleagues talked about a month of touring France, and I talked about the boat repairs.

These early experiences have left me permanently marked. I can’t walk by a boatyard and not critique the varnishing techniques of the yard worker applying a top coat to a deck. I have trouble just relaxing, looking in the shops, or sitting at a restaurant. And I find myself slipping into coastal English after being back for two days. This is embarrassing, because I am obviously “from away” and not local.

All this worked well when I worked as a maritime carver after my last government job ended. I displayed at boat shows, went to boatyards to measure, carve, and install carvings, and generally acted “boaty.”

But since Covid, I’ve had to lay off the shows. My family and doctor think I may have mild PTSD. They suggested that I retrain as something non-maritime to avoid triggering. Perhaps as a shopkeeper? Alternatively, the suggestion was I try to make some memorable vacation memories away from the coast. Tulsa? DesMoines? Atlanta? Dear God. No!