Right Place, Right Time

The one guy I had contact with before coming to the Caribbean is the captain of a 173-foot yacht and his name is Colin. Colin gets the credit for me being on St Maarten. If it weren't for him (having one little distant connection to this island), I would probably be in Barbados right now. Last week he offered me what is called “day work” on his yacht. Day work involves scrubbing, cleaning, polishing, washing, rinsing, drying, staining, waxing, etc. If the yacht was a butcher shop, I'd be the one killing the cows. It's eight hours of physical labor under the sun in the heat of the day and it sure ain't glamorous. Imagine detailing cars 8 hours a day in the summer sun for a week. It's not pretty, but it pays the bills, I'm getting to know more people, I feel very productive, and … well, I'm getting to the next part.

I came in early (per usual) on Thursday, my last scheduled day of work, and bumped into the temporary deckhand having breakfast. One of the first things he tells me is that he spent all night deliberating and finally decided to take a permanent position on another boat. I bumped into Colin later and he asked me when I was planning to leave the island and how work was going with the dive shop. After answering that I'd be here for a while longer and work at the dive shop was completely off and on, he asked if that meant I would be available to leave the island for a couple weeks at a time to which I said that I certainly could.

This little conversation left me with a smile on my face because I was expecting that I might be able to work for him a little bit more sometime before leaving the island. I was not prepared for what happened. A coupe hours later he called me below deck and asked me flat out if I wanted to work for him as a deckhand on a 16-day charter beginning in 2 days. He made sure to explain the details and the large amount of work that would be involved and within the hour the deal was sealed. So tomorrow marks my first day on a yacht (I did spend a week on a schooner, but that's completely different), my first day as a full-time (though temporary) deckhand, and my first time with guests on a yacht in my life. I don't have any experience or any qualifications to take this job, but because I was there when Martin was leaving, I got the job. Well, and because Colin is really cool.

The charter will take 12 guests, all of which are regulars on the boat and will spend 16 days going to St Barths, the British Virgin Islands, and St Thomas. I'm thrilled to be a part of it and expect that I'll have a great time doing it. I will have internet access but they made it sound as if I will be busy all day every day so my access will be limited. For anyone interested, here is the link to Passoin:
http://www.mycharter.com/PASSION/index.asp?pass=952891

Post-date

I threw a post up for the 26th of Feb. I know it's out of order but I forgot that I never wrote about it. I'm working on getting caught up:
Finding Blaskie
Playing for Money
Yacht Life (this probably won't come for at least a week since I'm not going to start working on a yacht until Monday)

The latest news on my life plans are this: try to get into University of Miami to take a semester of oceanography classes. If I decide it's awesome, I'll stay another semester and so on. If I don't like it, I'll get the STCW yachting certification and spend many months on a yacht while I figure out what I want to do with my life. If I don't get into U of Miami, maybe I'll just be a scuba instructor until Christmas time. Or apply somewhere else that's not as good.

3.14

Today marks the completion of 23 years of being alive. Hooray! I made it! I'm feeling a bit older but I still have the world at my fingertips.

I haven't yet told anyone it's my birthday b/c I'm sure that as soon as I do, people will start insisting that I go out and insisting on drinking drinks that they insist on buying for me. It is easier to just let it go and celebrate with people I know when I go home.

Work is going very well so far, exploring the island has not happened yet, I get my first paycheck on Monday, and I'm trying very hard to find a cheaper and better place to live.

As for post-summer plans, I don't have anything figured out yet. I am really considering taking a semester of oceanography courses and then 6 months or a year of working on a yacht to decide what I really love. Yes, it would postpone grad school (if I go - remember it has always been only a possibility, never a definite plan).

Until next time, keep checking back for more, take care, and live your life with a purpose.

Standard Life Crisis

This post is much more for my own immediate good than anything else. It not so much an update as it is me recognizing the necessity to put all of my possible plans down in writing. It is a perfect day to think about my life because it is very gloomy and rainy outside. The possibilities start with the simplest and go up to the most extreme.

At the end of the summer, I will continue with my original plan of being a basic scuba instructor somewhere (perhaps Red Sea or Great Barrier Reef) for about 3-4 months. Christmas will be spent at home (hopefully including a quick ski trip somewhere!) and then grad school would start in late February in New Zealand. After two years of obtaining a masters degree, I have no plans.

By the time late August rolls around, I will get on a plane to London Heathrow. During the final month of the racing season in England, my work is going to consist of cleaning boats (decks and hulls) while perhaps gaining experience sailing on any boat that offers me a position. The money and experience will be well worth the travel expenses. When the weather turns for the worst and the boats leave in search of warmer waters, I will move probably to the Red Sea and spend 2-3 months working as a dive instructor before going home for Christmas (hopefully including a quick ski trip somewhere!). Grad school would then start in late February in New Zealand. After the two years that it takes to receive a masters degree, I have no plans.

Immediately after Broadreach is over in late August, I will spend a semester taking university classes in oceanography and/or marine biology. The benefits here are that the subject matter is interesting, I will receive a proper introduction to marine sciences, the benefits of being a student would be back (discounts, clubs, organizations, many cool people my age, etc), health insurance would be covered under my parents' plan until I'm 25, and as long as the university is near water I could keep up with diving and boating. However, the downside is that I will be paying a lot of tuition, living in an expensive American apartment, I will have to deal with winter, and I won't be living somewhere exotic like the life I've been getting used to. After going home for Christmas (hopefully including a quick ski trip somewhere!), I will either move out to New Zealand in late February for a masters or decide that I like the school so much that I end up staying there for a degree. Two years after completing a masters, I have no plans.

My last option that I've given to myself is going to be the farthest from my original plan. Before training starts in May, I'm going to fly up to Florida to get what's called the STCW95, a basic qualification required by most boats in order to work even as a simple deckhand. Once I finish working with Broadreach in late August, I'm not sure where exactly I will go but what I will do is definite. With my degree in Physics, experience as a diving instructor, loose grasp of the French language, and the STCW95, I will find a long-term position on a yacht. While on this yacht, not only will I be building experience but I will be training as an engineer. Once leaving the yacht, I will be able to get my yachtmaster qualification and then do more training as an engineer. I'm not sure about the details but training off and on boats will continue for 5-6 years at which point I will be able to work as chief or second engineer on a large (150 ft) yacht of my choosing. The benefits are that my job consists of fixing things, I will be living on a yacht, my work by nature will consist of traveling to beautiful coastal areas, there is a very high demand for engineers that will only increase over the next 5-10 years, if I decide yachts aren't my thing, I'll have plenty of training that can be applied to a lot of other things, vacation time is long and frequent (sometimes 2 months on and two months off), and depending on the boat I could easily be making 6 figures before 2017. On the other hand, it's a huge commitment and I don't really know what the yachting life is like – I don't scare easily but making a decision like this would be the most frightening thing I've ever done.

I'm not an idiot – this fork in the road is not like a game show where I pick what's behind doors 1-4 and that's that. I of all people am well aware that things change. If I don't end up taking one of the four proposed paths or any combination thereof, other opportunities come up which can change everything. One thing is for certain though: whatever I end up doing before Christmas, it will affect (not necessarily determine) the rest of my life. Let me also say that I of all people understand the beauty of life as a full journey. I'm not looking at these options like “Oh no I have to pick one!!!!” but my attitude is more along the lines of “Alright, here are some of my top options. Which one will I most enjoy?” Ideas and input are always welcome but I think prayer is going to be my best bet.

Oh the Possibilities

One of my diving students is really cool. I've been hanging out with him a ton since he came in last week. He works on boats and we were talking last night about the jobs that are available for divers in the sailing/yachting industry. He told me that during the English racing season, work is easy to find cleaning boats or even working on the boats as part of the crew. Apparently it is very lucrative and he pretty much guaranteed that he could find me a job for a month after summer camp is over. I haven't made any plans post-summer camp and so working for a month in England for all the boats coming through sounds quite appealing. Certainly there's a lot to think about and many other ideas to consider. I'll keep the blog very up to date with any ideas that come my way.

Parmesan Rolls

I got back from a great night dive and all of the markets seem to close at 9 and thus I was stuck to eat whatever I had left waiting for me at the crew house. This consisted of two rolls, a small container of parmesan cheese, and juice. Here's my secret recipe for my marvelous gourmet dinner so you too can share my experiences wherever you are:
Tear two stale rolls horizontally by hand and place on a plate.
Sprinkle parmesan cheese liberally onto one half and place the other half on top.
Microwave for 12 seconds.
Do not let cool.
Serve with cold juice.

This is what my meals are turning into. I make it work, but I've seen better culinary days. I'm probably going to swing by Subway right now on my way to the dive center. It's a shame, isn't it. In my defense, St Maarten doesn't have much traditional food of their own so I'm not really missing much by going to an American chain. I would not do it in Indonesia or Philippines unless overtaken by nostalgia.

Settling In

Believe it or not, things have actually been going my way since I've been on the island. I ran into an unexpectedly rough start when the airlines lost my guitar. Otherwise I made it safely to the crew house and got settled in. The island seems to be very Americanized. I've been living for 4 months where left is right and right is wrong so now I'm dancing with everyone on the sidewalk trying to get out of their way since I want to stay left and they want to walk on their right. Looking left before crossing streets is also proving to be difficult too but I'm a quick re-learner and I haven't caused any accidents yet. English is the most widely used language, American chains abound (ACE, McDonalds, Subway, Baskin Robbins, KFC, etc etc etc), and the thing that tops it all off is that the US dollar is the most widely used currency here.

3 Caribbean reef sharks looking for a snack

Thanks to a distant connection, I got in touch with Dive Safaris and was able to go with them on a dive in search of sharks. Boy was that ever a success! We found 5 (out of many) sharks that apparently hang out at a particular reef on a regular basis. I thought to myself that if this dive was any indication on what was to come, I have found the right place to dive. As it turns out, St Maarten does not have the best diving. After several days of diving (for work and for fun), I can equate it to the diving on the Gili Islands. There are some redeeming traits such as wrecks, sharks, stingrays, and barracudas, but by and large it's nothing compared to the pristine diving I found in the Philippines.

The crew house I'm in is expensive but the money from the part-time work at the dive center is juuust enough to cover it plus food. They keep me very busy there. In other words, I keep myself very busy there by helping fill tanks, set up gear, wash equipment, carry tanks, etc. The more I help out, the more chance I have to be the first one in line for work there. The people I'm living with are a different breed. I can't really explain them, but maybe I'll be around them enough for a story or two to come up.

The only other thing on my mind is that I'm reeeeeeaaaaaly thinking of going for the STCW95. This is the most basic qualification that is usually required by all boats, sailing or motor. My dream has always been to work as a dive instructor on a sailboat and this seems to be the next step to see that dream come true. I have to look into it a bit more, but I really would like to pursue it.

Exit Strategy

I didn't get the chance to post this right away when it happened, then I simply forgot about it since then. I'm post-dating this update so it falls properly into the chronology. So although it's about 3 weeks late, here's the story of my eventful voyage from Sydney to Sint Maarten.

Knowing I could find the cheapest ride to the airport via shuttle, I searched the internet for the cheapest ones. Twelve Australian dollars was the total for a shuttle called JetBus that would pick me up at the door and take me directly to the airport – much better than the 40+ dollars for the cost of a taxi. Accounting for an hour to make the 45-minute drive to the airport, two hours before the flight left, and another 30 minutes in case traffic was very bad, I told the shuttle to arrive 3 hours and 15 minutes before my flight was planning to take off. Twenty minutes after they were supposed to pick me up I rang the company to politely ask what the story was and to see when I would be picked up. After being on hold for no more than a minute, the man on the other end said the driver was 15 minutes away and coming to pick me up now. 30 minutes later, I call them back and sternly asked where my ride was. He paged the driver and told me the street he was on and said he would be there in about 5 but no more than 10 minutes later. At this point Steve saw me getting a bit uneasy and demanded we play cards. 15 minutes later I hear a car honking at me across the street. I threw my bags in the car and after saying thank you and goodbye to Steve, stepped in the back seat for a very awkward car ride.

As he was an hour late, I really didn't feel like speaking to him at all and kept every conversation to a minimum. I told him where I needed to go, what airline I was going on, answered a couple of his questions in about 3 words or less, and left it at that. I didn't really care about anything else he was saying and frankly as a customer I didn't want to hear it. Throughout the trip, he openly admitted that he wasn't going to take this job but had a friend coming in on a flight and thus decided to take it so he could meet his friend at the airport and make some money along the way. In light of the heavy traffic, the driver said that he would take the back roads. This was fine by me until he admitted that he was doing a bit of guess work. He felt comfortable guessing from his 11 years of taxi driving experience in Sydney... which ended 16 years ago. It would have also been fine had he been using GPS or a map. It might have even been alright if he wasn't cursing the other drivers on the road and making U-turns. I might have even gotten out of the car somewhat satisfied if he'd looked for the airline entrance for more than a few seconds before telling me that “that's good enough, it shouldn't be too far from here.” Because I accounted for so much extra time, I checked in and made it to my gate with a few minutes left over to watch some olympic curling before boarding.

I managed to have an open seat beside me on the way to Honolulu and was therefore able to sleep on the way there. I already wrote about getting in touch with people in St Maarten and eating sushi with Meg and Conor but I didn't mention that the airlines had lost my guitar. When I got onto the plane that evening bound for Charlotte, it was the same story – another empty seat beside me which is always conducive to sleep. By the time I made it to Charlotte the next morning, the temperature was 31F and about 90% of the people in the airport were wearing heavy winter coats and gloves as opposed to my shorts and (thank goodness!) thin sweatshirt. Anytime a door would open to the outside I would bundle up tight and rub the exposed skin on my legs to keep warm. It wasn't until the plane took off that I was finally at ease again about the weather, knowing that I was on my way to sunny blue skies.

At baggage claim, I filled out a form for my missing guitar giving them all the information I had in order to get in touch with me. The crew house I ended up in had an ample amount of beds so I grabbed a bite to eat and settled in for what I thought was only going to be a short time before finding an apartment.

Dawning of a New Age

For about a dozen years, I have looked at life through a particular metaphor. I've never been much of a surfer but I know how powerful and impressive waves can be. The way I have seen it is that you have a surf board and every obstacle in life is a wave. Either stand up and take a glorious ride or bob up and down watching all the excitement of life pass by. Of course in deciding to ride a wave, there is a serious inherent danger of falling off and being churned around and eaten up alive completely at the mercy of the raging waves.

I've been silent about many serious apprehensions about moving to St Maarten. My biggest worries have been seeded in lack of communication, not knowing where to stay, not knowing who to talk to upon arrival, and not knowing where to look for work. Unlike my preparations in moving to the Philippines and Indonesia that involved sending out about 50 emails each, I have only contacted one person in St Maarten, and he is currently on holiday in France. When I tried to phone the crew housing (budget housing geared toward any crew members working on the island) before leaving Sydney, none of the three numbers resulted in an answer. Going to Gili Trawangan, I was not worried about finding a place to live: the island is set up for backpackers and I found a place my first day for $100/month. From what I've heard about St Maarten and the other Caribbean islands, cheap hotels can go for $200/night. Needless to say, the lack of certainty was terribly daunting as I packed and geared up for my marathon flight.

Upon arrival to Hawaii, I stuck to my plan of immediately finding a phone to call St Maarten. After a 30 minute quest to find a phone, I was able to convince the crew at American Airlines to let me use their private staff room to make the calls. As if it was written, it wasn't until the third call (remember I was given only 3 numbers) that I got an answer, but boy what an answer it was. The woman on the other end of the phone informed me that her crew house was full but upon asking if there was another place I could stay, she offered to personally find me a place to stay and set me up with an address to give customs upon entry into the country when filling out the arrival paperwork. The plan was to call her upon arrival in St Maarten and find out where to go. I promptly got in touch with my cousin Meg (thanks again to the generosity of my new American Airlines friends) and organized to meet for lunch. Meg is the cousin I lived with for two months in Hawaii while her husband Conor was in Afghanistan. Thankfully, the three of us we were able to meet up for about 45 minutes for sushi near the airport.

I was so happy that I was practically dancing through the airport. Every detail is falling right into place. Boy did I ever catch that wave. I am riding one of the biggest meanest curling waves of my life with joy and excitement pumping through my veins as I stand on my board like a professional accepting all risk and embracing every bit of the exhilarating ride.

Thunder Down Under

As with my last update, I feel as if I have to cut things a bit short. The good thing is that I'm sitting on a plane right now with nowhere to go. I'm a captive writer. Here's a run down of the notable things that happened while in the land of the most dangerous spiders, snakes, jellyfish, and sharks.

One of my first excursions around the city was to the Sydney Wildlife World. Here over 130 species of native Australian insects, spiders, mammals, and reptiles call home. Most notable are the world's deadliest snake and spider, a massive crocodile, koalas, and kangaroos. Petting and getting a picture with the absolutely adorable koalas required dropping 20 dollars which I was not keen to do, especially when the guide said admitted that they don't like people touching them. However I must have looked particularly special when I went to see the kangaroos because after waiting about ten minutes for the guide's talk and listening to the whole thing, he told me that I alone could come in and pet the one that had come over for food. It was not only the first time I ever remember seeing a kangaroo but certainly the first time I've ever touched one. Coming away from 3 hours of seeing native Australian creatures left me feeling that it was time and money well spent.

My housing was quite peculiar during my stay in Sydney. For the first 3 nights, I was happily in a cheap backpacker's not far from the city. The intention was to spend that time finding another equally or less expensive place but I ended up just deciding it was too much hassle. When I went to book a room for the rest of my stay, it turned out that between the AC/DC concert, Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, Ultimate Fighting Championships, and the Chinese new year, they were full for Saturday. It didn't take too long to figure out that literally every single backpacker's within a 40 mile radius was completely full for Saturday and Saturday alone. Considering my options, it turned out the best I could do was about $100/night. It was then (Thursday night) that I started frantically sending out emails to everyone I knew asking for a place to stay. I was honestly prepared to sleep on a park bench. The following morning I got an email from Shavely (sha-VEL-ee), a Denison student studying abroad here, that I could stay at their place on a couch and I immediately took her up on the offer.

Later that night, I was hanging out with the study abroad group in their apartment. I didn't think anything of it when the doorbell rang and 3 people came in. One of the three was a curly-haired guy who introduced himself as John. It was odd because I thought he looked incredibly like a John that I knew from Denison but certainly couldn't be the same one since this was in Sydney. Upon asking where he was from, he answered Pennsylvania. I had forgotten where the John I was thinking of was from, but I went out on a limb, looked at him, and just said, “Auerbach? John Auerbach?” He looked at me in bewilderment and I knew at that moment that it was he. The rest of the night I spent in shock that a guy who went on pre-orientation with me to Washington DC and spent two years at a tiny school in the middle of Ohio could end up in the same place on the other side of the world. We reminisced for a while about different people we both knew and it was amazing. Unfortunately I, of all people, didn't get a picture. Rats.

The famous Sydney Opera House

Another activity high on my priority list was to see a concert in the Sydney Opera House. I had seen the structure from the outside but decided it would be more memorable to actually go to a show and see it from the inside. Unfortunately I missed my opportunity to see a proper symphony in the concert hall but managed to snag a ticket for Lady Carol, an Irish ukulele player/singer. It took me an hour to get there by bus (instead of 20 min) thanks to the New Year celebration thus I was about 5 minutes late. It was a great show and I loved that I was able to go inside the Opera House. Definitely worth it.

The one and only AC/DC in concert.  Yes, I was close!

A far more memorable concert was the sold out AC/DC concert at the Olympic Stadium with 70,000 spectators. I went to the Australian equivalent of Craig's List and found a ticket selling for less than the original cost and jumped on it. The day of the concert I spent about 4 hours navigating my way around southern Sydney trying to track down the guy's house but obviously made it there. The tickets were Stadium A, meaning house left, touching the stage. In other words, this is the section where mosh pits tend to happen. Because the guy I bought the ticket said it's not really out of control (he had too many tickets and went a couple nights before), my camera came along; I would have kicked myself throughout the entire concert if I didn't have it. I must say that AC/DC is not my favorite band, but let me just say they are AWESOME in concert especially considering their age – they got going around 1971. I have a ton of photos and videos but I won't post them all. Of all the things I did in Sydney, the concert was possibly the most memorable.

Thanks to everyone who helped me out during my time there! Kate, Shavely, Steve, Chad (thanks for reading, man), Mike(s), Shauna, Steph, Chris, Sandy, and everyone I met at the backpackers. Peace!