Standing off the back of a ship at night in the middle of the ocean is the strangest feeling I know. The deck lights throw a haze that hangs out over the water, a kind of halo, and inside it you can see about a hundred feet of wake — white foam churned up and … Continue reading A Hundred Feet
Twenty Years
We got into St. Thomas at seven this morning and walked off not knowing what to expect. It's a small island and it feels smaller — tucked away, unhurried. People wanted our business but nobody put anything in our faces about it. We rode a gondola up to a lookout and stood there a while … Continue reading Twenty Years
Day Three
Somewhere on day three I started itching to get back after it. Nothing was wrong. That's the strange part. We'd eaten well and slept in and laid around and seen genuinely beautiful things, and I was lying there feeling lethargic and vaguely dissatisfied about something I couldn't point at. It took me a while to … Continue reading Day Three
Passenger
I love watching people, and a ship is about the best place I've found to do it. Everybody converges. Nationalities I couldn't place, accents I can't identify, families three generations deep at one table. Old people moving slow and full of life. Kids running where they shouldn't. Somebody loud at the bar who wants the … Continue reading Passenger
Two-Thirds Down The Page
We missed a kayak rental this morning because of something printed on a piece of paper in our room. It was there. That's the part I want to say first, because it would be easy to write this as a complaint and the complaint isn't honest. The information was in our stateroom, in a packet, … Continue reading Two-Thirds Down The Page
David Willis 