Dear Diary: Old endings become new beginnings

Today is no ordinary day for me. Today marks the final leg of my contract at sea. It marks the time where I start counting down the weeks and not the months. I have two months left on this ship. That is eight cruises, eight formal nights, eight embarkation days, eight more days in St Thomas, eight more afternoons in the Bahamas, two days out in Miami and sixteen more hours to enjoy Tortola. I have eight more blog posts to tell you about the Carribbean. After that? Who knows where in the world I will be.

Drinking wine while sailing into St Thomas-one of my favourite memories this contract

It is funny how you feel you have tons of time but when that time is over you feel it has flown by without any time for you to catch your breath in between. This contract has passed so swiftly leaving the bittersweet taste of warm beer from the crew bar, the caress of island sunshine and the stale smell of the dusty air conditioning system installed on the Escape.

I personally cannot believe I survived a full four months of smiling at strangers and visiting the same islands every week. Miami, St Thomas, Tortola, Nassau, Bahamas. Every week. It sounds wonderfully exciting to the old me- stuck in  one city for years, however my heart has become a gypsy heart- always on the run. I no longer itch for travel, I lust for it and it would be very difficult to settle for any kind of life living in one place.

My ship contracts used to have at least three different cruise itineraries. I sailed to Alaska, to Mexico, Columbia and the Panama Canal, finishing up in Jamaica. I have done the Eastern Carribbean, then the Western Carribbean. I took a ride on the ship to Nova Scotia, Canada for a few weeks. It was there when I fell in love with ships. Almost every day I woke up in a different place every day, I lounged on a different beach, hiked up a different trail and saw a different site I had never seen before. True, I was never fully experiencing each place based on the limited time we had there but life passed in a never-ending whirlwind of colour.

Throwback to NYC- fresh from the Ocean

From the late nights in crew bar to the breakfasts in NYC- working in ships was different to living in any city in the world. New people came almost every week and old people left. It is a place where the only constant, stable thing is change itself. 

Somehow it no longer feels like that anymore- my nights in crew bar have become shorter and less regular, my itinerary has stayed the same for the full six months and, even though I wake up in a different place every day it is still the same place I went to the week before. Do not get me wrong- I still have fun. I just can't shake the feeling that I am living in one place- that moves around but is still the same.

Perhaps I am growing up, perhaps the novelty of ships have worn off. I know that when you have been on ships long enough to know that the disgusting mix of dough and bones in brown liquid they call "Carribbean soup" is actually delicious then you are no longer fresh to the game. (I am not  kidding there was always a line for that soup and I used to wonder what was wrong with those people. I now AM one of those people. Anyhow- something tells me I have learnt all I can from working and living here and I know in my heart it is time to move on.

"Moving on" in Miami.

This is why I am certain this will be my last few weeks on a cruise ship- the beginning of the end. I have plans for the future but I do not yet know what is next to come. For now I will enjoy my last few weeks in the Carribbean as much as I enjoy the last few sips of beer at 2am. I will relish my journey back home and- no matter what happens next I will always keep you posted. 

A Carribbean toast to new beginnings.