its coming...

If a young man walks up to me one day and tell me that he is contemplating a
career as a seafarer, there will be many, many things that I shall tell him.
First of all, I shall tell him that there are neither great adventures nor
any more new lands to discover, but there will be experiences that will stay
in his heart forever.
I shall tell him that the modern seafarer has to go to school first, so that
he can learn how to use a spanner instead of a sword, the GPS instead of a
sextant.
I shall tell him that he has to start off his sea career as a cadet, the
lowest form of life onboard. I shall tell him that he might have to wash the
toilets and scrub the floors, and cleaning will become one of the most
important skills in his sea life.
I shall tell him about the orientation games onboard. About new cadets
having to stand at the forward station, shivering in the wind, with the
instruction to look out for the equator line that will run across the sea.
About new cadets having to be shave bald as an initiation ceremony for
crossing the equator for the first time. About being asked to get the keys
for starting the main engine when there is no such thing. About being
presented with fake electricity and water bills for his lodging onboard.
And most of all, about the enthusiasm of the older hands at ensuring that
the new kid gets drunk and loses his virginity at the first port of call. And
if he smiles and asks me about the women around the world, I shall tell him
that there are different types of seamen:
There are those who abstain and tell you that they abstain.
There are those who indulge and tell you that they abstain.
There are those who indulge and tell you stories that will make you cream in
your pants.
And of course, there are those who abstain and yet tell you that they are
the Don Juan of the seven seas.

Salt of the sea
And then I shall tell him that there is only one type of seafarer as far as
shore people are concerned, and it is a stigma that we all have to carry with
us.
I shall tell him to forget the earthly pleasures, for there will not be
much. Instead, I shall tell him about working in the engine room at 45 C.
About cleaning the sludge tanks, the bilges, the scavenge spaces of the
engine and, to top it off, the sewage plant.
I shall tell him not to go into the air-conditioned control room when he's
covered in sweat. And when he does go in for breaks, I shall tell him to
first make a cup of coffee for the chief engineer, before making one for
himself. I shall tell him to swallow salt tablets every day, so that he does
not dehydrate and drop senseless while working.
I shall tell him to take good care of his health and his hygiene. He'll have
to wash his own clothes because mama will not be there.
I shall tell him to sleep when he can, for when the alarms sound in the
middle of the night, he'll have to jump up and run down to the engine room
and be ready for action immediately. And I shall tell him that the alarm
sounds often.
I shall tell him that he will meet some good mentors who will guide him in
his work and in life, and I shall tell him that he will meet some seniors who
might scream and throw spanners at him for making mistakes.
I shall tell him that sometimes things can be so hard that he'll feel like
crying, and I shall tell him that he can only cry in his cabin.

I shall tell him that he will make many close friends onboard. Some last
for just that ship, some longer. I shall tell him that he will learn to trust
his friend with his life and the friend will give him the same compliment in
return.

Sweet rewards and sacrifices
I shall tell him that if he makes it through the first ship safely, the
moment of signing off from the first ship will be one of the sweetest moments
of his life.
And I shall tell him time will fly, and soon it will be time for him to sign
on another ship. I shall tell him about the joy of signing off and going
home. About the joy of having two months of vacation to spend with loved
ones. About the joy of having money to spend, saved from the toils at sea.
And then I shall tell him about the fear and worry as the leave finishes and
the money start to run out. I shall tell him about the concern that the
company does not call him back for another contract, and yet, I shall also
tell him about the heavy sinking feeling when the phone rings and it's time
for him to pack his suitcase.
I shall tell him about the crying girlfriend, and about the worrying mother.
I shall also tell him about the empty bank account and the sea time that he
needs. I shall tell him that it is a career of rapid rise in rank and
earnings. That he will have plenty of savings compared to his peers ashore.
But I shall also tell him about the sacrifices that come with it.
I shall tell him about being onboard during the festive seasons, and special
occasions. I shall tell him of being far away at sea during emergencies at
home, and the pain of being at sea during the birth of his first child.

Back to shore
Then I shall tell him about the mid life crisis at sea. I shall tell him
about feeling lost whenever he comes back ashore, of the worries that he'll
have to sail until he's old and knowing nothing except the life onboard. I
shall tell him about coming home and seeing his child has grown and the
feeling when his child call him "uncle".
I shall then tell him about the decision to stop sailing and the doubts
about starting work ashore. About being lost in office politics, about the
harsh realities of shore life and job security, about survival not of the
most able but the most suave.
And I shall tell him about missing the simplicities at sea, about missing
sea breeze. About missing the circular unimpeded horizon. About missing the
excitement of the tossing seas during a storm. About missing the tranquil
beauty of waters so clam that the sky and the sea all merge into one.
I shall tell him that once we get salt in between our ears, it takes a long
duration of shore life to dilute it.
And lastly, I shall tell him that it is not the best career finance wise or
in terms of reputation. But I shall also tell him that it is a decent way for
a man to make a living and he will become a decent and honest man until the
day he comes back ashore. Then, I shall ask him to think more than twice before join as a seafarer and than give him all my blessings and wish
him bon voyage.