Day 104 (05-01-09)
Well this is depressing. I still can’t move. I have a final tomorrow. And we aren’t going to any other ports. Lunacy. Today is a study day since B Day exams are tomorrow. So most of us are lying around trying to avoid our studies as much as possible. Those of us who happen to have all of their classes on A Days are gloating that they’ve been finished for days. Well, hooray for you guys. It could be worse though. I could be taking real classes. I mean…
Day 105 (05-02-09)
B Day Exams today. Luckily I only have one. I haven’t had as much studying to do as most people here. My Shakespeare professor decided we didn’t need an exam in our class; I suppose a final paper was sufficient. Biological Anthropology went as well as could be expected. It was a solid effort. After the exam, I wandered out of the classroom to the piano lounge where one of my buddies was playing background music for students and teachers deep in thought. An exam proctor yelled at us when our Billy Joel got too loud. But, come on. It’s Billy Joel. You HAVE to sing it with some… emphasis. Anyway. Here’s a weird feeling. Class is over. Completely. I don’t like it. You know why? That means that the semester is just about over. No more ports. No more class. No more voyage of a lifetime. But we still have Panama day/Prom night tomorrow to look forward to. I’ll be breaking out the Vietnam suit. Should be a rather epic evening.
Side note: I have a giant world map at home. It’s laminated. I draw on it with dry-erase markers. Why didn’t I bring it with me? So many people here are smarter than I am, and brought/bought a big world map for all of their friends to sign, yearbook style. It’s basically the thing to do here. All the cool kids are doing it. And I’m not. Because I’m a poor planner. Or I’m forgetful. I can never remember which.
Day 106 (05-03-09)
We’re almost back on East Coast Time. You mean, 9am on the ship is actually 9am at home, too? Madness. This morning and early afternoon were spent traversing the Panama Canal. And my sleep schedule nearly prevented me from experiencing it. I need to learn to get myself out of bed before 11:30am. Scratch that. I need to learn to go to sleep before 4am. The rest will take care of itself. The canal was a really neat experience. We’d cruise up to one of the locks and wait for a little while the water level went up or down to match us with the next section. I’m sure you know the gist of a canal’s function, but it’s really interesting to experience firsthand. When I first walked outside, I had forgotten it was Canal Day. I was pretty confused when the first thing I saw out the window was a concrete wall rising and rising. For a very brief, minute, infinitesimal split-second, I might have thought we were sinking. But I totally figured it out. After we left the canals behind us, it was time to start thinking about the evening’s main attraction: Ambassador’s Ball.
I’m going to be honest. It was sloppy. Anyone and everyone who had managed to sneak alcohol onboard at a previous port was probably saving it for prom night. And they drank it all. People were pretty ridiculous. But that’s not the focus of the party.
Dinner was delicious. I ordered the vegetarian meal (why?), but traded it in for the fancy beef dish. We all looked spiffy in our suits/tuxedos and dresses. It was kind of a hybrid between prom night and a wedding reception. And then there was the dance party. The sweaty, hot mess of a dance party. 700 students in the Union packed together like well-dressed, ill-intentioned sardines. Our heartbeats synced together with the bass line and we all throbbed and swayed in unison. People were dancing up on the piano. People were tearing down decorations and wearing them (guilty). And there was no water to be found. Anywhere. The ship provided us with a fancy dinner. And a delicious dessert selection. But no water. Anywhere. I was fortunate enough to run into Les McCabe outside his office while I was on my way to my room during the festivities, and he had some bottled water that he was willing to part with. Suddenly, the bottled water in my pocket made me the most popular guy on the dance floor; I ended up giving half of it away. Although the suit made me pretty popular as well. Not trying to talk myself up here or anything, but there’s no other way to say it. People love the white suit. Women love the white suit. Thus, I love the white suit.
It was a fun night.
After the festivities me and some of the guys wandered around the ship talking and reflecting about the evening’s events, and what the future might hold. Bittersweet times. This is it.
Day 107 (05-04-09)
So there are a few of us here on the ship. Four of us, to be exact. That have been hired for a daunting task. We basically have to roast the administration aboard the ship. It’s a fake Pre-port, and we’re in charge of every aspect of it. Today’s agenda: put all of our thoughts to paper and create this thing. Why the urgency? Because the performance is tonight. And as of 9am this morning… we haven’t done anything but gather ideas. All day, we worked on this pre-port. With some help from an advisor, we created a fake Green Sheet giving details on all the fun trips planned for Florida, and what types of culture shock to expect in the majestic port of… Ft. Lauderdale. We have each assumed roles in the performance: Jonathan is portraying the Asst. Executive Dean, Sara is doing the Doctor and the Field Office rep, Greg is the Academic Dean and the Photographer, and I’m the Executive Dean, the Videographer, and the Dean of Students. We have the A/V Music guy and the Security Officer making cameos as themselves. It’s nuts.
In preparation for my part as the Executive Dean, I found it necessary to get a haircut, as he is lacking in the “full head of hair” department. As my hair is short already, I went and got some bald spots shaved into the buzz cut. And I gave myself a soul patch. For added effect. He’s also heavily into fitness and working out. So I snagged one of his t-shirts (that everyone recognizes) and stuffed it with padding to give myself the extra muscle.
And let me just say, now that it’s over… oh man it was incredible. We struck the right balance of mockery, jest, and endearment, and students and faculty alike were amused. It was so much fun and it was a great way to put an end to our voyage. Cloud Nine right now. To Sara, Jonathan, and Greg, you guys are hilarious, and tonight was one of the best nights I’ve ever had on the MV because of what we managed to put together today. Cheers.
Day 108 (05-05-09)
There will be no sleep tonight. There can’t be. If I sleep, I miss out on the last night of the voyage. This is the end.
Today, we all just wandered around the ship, in a daze, trying to take in every moment. People with World Maps and Voyage Books ran from person to person, getting them to sign, yearbook style. People hugged. People cried. I still have to pack.
Crap, I still have to pack.
No worries, packing takes me 10 minutes. But you know what takes more than 10 minutes? Taco Night. Oh that’s right ladies and gents. Tonight, we get that final, succulent delight. Let me take you through it. You start with a plate. A big plate. You then grab 5 hard taco shells. No less, no more. Now, crush those taco shells on your plate, essentially turning them into nachos. Here come the layers. Meat. Pile it on liberally. Jump ahead in line and grab some cheese. Sprinkle it over the meat. Are you taking notes? Pay attention. After the cheese, sneak back to lettuce and apply as much as you deem necessary. This is the voluntary portion of the exercise. And now, things start to get messy. Sitting in front of you, in no particular order, will be three things: Salsa (Mild or Medium), Sour Cream, and Guac. Grab the giant ladle and apply ample amounts of each substance onto the top of your 2-pound mountain of Mexican goodness. When you are finished, go back to the cheese. Dump as much cheese on top as you can handle without it spilling off of the plate and onto the floor. Voila. You now have the recipe for the dinner I ate this evening. PS- if I were to look at another piece of food right now, I might vomit everywhere. Just saying.
And now, it is almost nightfall. Our last sunset aboard the MV. Naturally, we all claimed our spots at the back of the ship and watched as the Sun broke the line of the horizon. And we kept on watching until it was entirely gone from view. We took pictures. There was more hugging and crying. We sang lots of songs, too, which was interesting. It was more like 500 college students yelling random things off the back of a ship into an endless expanse of water that seemed deaf to our calls. But that’s always fun.
As the hours wore on, we got ourselves prepared. I had my deck chair reserved on the back deck, in case I did decide to sleep. All night, I bounced around the ship. From the back of the 5th deck, to the 7th deck where people were playing games and singing and chanting (it wasn’t weird at the time), I wandered and took in all the final moments with friends that I may never see again. It’s a depressing feeling, but I know there are at least some people onboard that I’ll never see again.
By 3am, Miami was visible in the distance. The city lights showing across the open ocean, beckoning us closer in the dark. And, although I was sure this wouldn’t happen, by 5am, the ship’s cleaning crew was kicking us out of our deck chairs and telling us to go inside. So I went in and found a friend drawing with pastels. I joined her. Believe me, as bad an artist as I am under normal conditions, I’m even worse at 5am after staying up all night and fighting off emotional turmoil. By 7am I was ready for my last hurrah. My final moment of glory aboard my ship…
Day 109 (05-06-09)
7am. Time to go. I made my way to the bridge of the ship, where I met with the captain of the MV Explorer, Jeremy Kingston. Before the ship enters each port, it must fly the national flag of the country it is entering as a sign that it will abide by all of the nautical regulations in place for the nation. At an auction on an earlier night, I won the privilege of raising the U.S. flag upon our final approach into Ft. Lauderdale. And now, 12 miles outside of a U.S. harbor, it was time for me to welcome my friends back home. Two crewmen accompanied me into a restricted area on the top deck of the ship, and we then limbed a ladder to the VERY top deck of the ship. There, we unfolded the flag, tied it to the rope, and I hoisted her all the way up. And now, we’re ready to come home. At least symbolically.
An eternity later, after watching the sunrise, we finally made it into the harbor. I called my dad to see where all the parents would be standing. We wanted to snag a good piece of railing on the appropriate side of the ship. So he tells me where they’re standing. And it occurs to me. The Assistant Executive Dean told me we were docking on the starboard side. But if we just pull into the harbor as is, we’ll be docking on the port side. That means….
Yes. The captain that boarded the ship in the harbor was pulling off a ridiculous maneuver. He pulled us into the harbor. And then turned and BACKED us into our space. He took. A cruise ship. And backed it. Into a parking space. A cruise ship. It’s almost six hundred feet long. Are you kidding me? Insanity.
And then we saw the parents. And we yelled. And they yelled. And there were signs. And tears. And surprises. And an airplane with a banner welcoming home Chase Puckett. It was interesting. And then we parked. And then…. We waited. I yelled some more at the people on land. My obnoxiously loud screaming voice can be a blessing and a curse, I suppose, because people could actually make out what I was saying. But anyway. They had to clear us to get off of the ship. Customs had to get situated. Our luggage had to be unloaded from the ship via crane. We still had a few hours before we were able to go anywhere.
So I took a nap.
I know, I know, after everything I’ve said about the past two days, I can’t believe I napped at a time like this, either. I should’ve been running around saying goodbyes and catching people one last time, but at this point, I figured that would be too much. I said what I needed to say. And I’m not one for prolonged goodbyes. So I rested. After my nap, I groggily gathered the rest of my things from my cabin and walked to the lobby. I grabbed a spot right at the door and watched as friends made their way through the exit. And then, just like that, it was my turn. No big ado. No fanfare. No last sprint through the ship to absorb what I could. Just a long walk into customs, head held high and eyes straight. I may not like it, but it’s time to move on.
My bags were there, right in the middle of the warehouse holding all of the luggage. And I was through customs and out the door without any semblance of a delay. I saw my parents, and they welcomed me back. I said goodbye to a handful of people standing outside the exit tunnel. And then… I was ready to go. After several instances of my mother asking, “Are you SURE you’re ready to go?” we made our way to the rental car, and my adventure officially ended. We stopped at the first Wendy’s we saw so I could get a Baconator, and life went on.
Flash Forward.
Day 119 of My Old Life (09-02-09)
I know. In the time it’s taken me to finish this damn thing, I could’ve sailed around the world again. And then some. But I didn’t want to. After coming back, I settled right back into my old routine from the summer before, and I became normal again. And I didn’t like it. This trip changed me. I look at things differently now. So the same old routine brought about a whole new set of emotions and implications. I got cabin fever in my own home. I was tied down by my job and there weren’t 700 people sitting in my kitchen every morning when I went downstairs to get food. There were none. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be able to see my family and friends from home again, but such a blunt transition is never going to be easy. For almost 4 months, I wasn’t in the same place for more than a week at a time. And then… I was. My sense of wanderlust kept taking over and willing me away from Pennsylvania, and little trips to New York, Massachusetts, even New Jersey were necessary to keep from exploding. The monotony wore heavily on me because I had just been on such a wild ride.
So I didn’t finish the blog this summer. At the time, that would’ve been too much closure. But now, after the drive out to Boulder and all of the mini-SAS reunions I’ve had in the past few months, I’m content with where I am. And I don’t have to dread the end anymore. My reasoning for putting it off is similar to the feeling you get when reading an incredible book. You get to the end and put it down for a little while, because it’s so good that you don’t want it to end. When you come to the end, you have nothing else to look forward to. But this is not the end of the book… just the end of a chapter. And I look forward to continuing my story soon.
