Solitary Sailor

Being an introvert and being a dreamer is an interesting combination. On one hand, you can experience the world that you wish you could be a part of from the comfort of your favorite hiding place. On the other hand, your dreams can manifest into something larger without you even realizing it, sleepwalking out of your comfort zone, only to awake far from home.

In my case, this was literal.

I grew up in Newfoundland, an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, on the east coast of Canada. Newfoundland is dependent on the ocean in every way possible, from receiving supplies to harvesting seafood, and it influences every resident, sometimes more than they realize.

When my imagination took me to fantastic places as a child, it usually involved the ocean in some way. Sometimes I was a Viking, sailing from Norway to L'anse Aux Meadows, battling the harsh weather conditions and the occasional Sea Monster to seek out the unexplored land. Other times I was leading a deep-sea expedition to explore secret underwater cities and discover new creatures never seen before.

As I approached the end of my final year of High School, confused about what it is I wanted to do with my adult life, I stumbled upon a flyer from the local Marine college offering admission to a new program to study Remotely Operated Vehicles. "Learn to pilot underwater submersibles and explore the world that lies below”. My brain did that thing it does when excitement hits hard and fast. I recalled dreaming of being Jacques Cousteau diving through the Mediterranean, looking for shipwrecks. I was sold. This was it. My dreams could become reality, and I could do the impossible.

My confidence exploded. I thought about all the different factors that were terrifying to most people, the pressure of operating a multi-million dollar robot 3000 meters under the sea with everything on the line, floating in the middle of the harsh Atlantic where hurricane season felt like every day, battling seasickness just to keep going. YES. These things no longer made me anxious, and only more excited. I could do this.

So I applied. And I got accepted. For two years, I went to school every day, getting reasonably good grades, (some math issues at times) learning the ins and outs of marine terminology, and the mechanics of the ROV’s themselves by breaking them down to the bolts and rebuilding them again.

Graduation was approaching quickly and the hunt for work terms was the talk of the campus. I had been lucky enough to snag an interview with arguably the top company in the industry along with 5 of my classmates. They were offering a single position on a vessel servicing the oil fields in the United Arab Emirates. I walked into the interview with my head held high. I purchased my first suit and cut my hair that had at this point been down to my waist.

I walked into a large boardroom with 3 sets of eyes fixed on me. My knees shook from nervousness so I sat as quickly as I could before they gave out on me. Then I was bombarded with questions. Like a light switch, I remembered why I was here. My confidence hadn’t left me. I answered their questions with pinpoint accuracy, talked about all the things that made me the person they want- scratch that - the person they NEEDED. I walked away knowing that I gave it everything I had and was confident that they felt the same.

The next day, I got a phone call. It was the HR manager from the interview telling me how impressed they were with my interview and wanted to offer me a different position from the one I applied for, and instead, a spot on a ship-based out of my hometown. I snapped out a yes before I even had a chance to drop the phone. My dreams had finally come true. I had found my treasure at the bottom of the sea, I was beating the odds against me and taking life by the horns.

A couple of weeks later, on August 28th, 2011, I started the job. Working in the office getting the paperwork in order, learning about the company culture, and all the wonderful things that came with being a professional Jacques Cousteau. I was told which Ship that I would be working on and given the details of when I should arrive at the dock and who to look for when I got there.

The next day my father dropped me off at the dock to join the ship. He was beaming with pride and was so happy to see me off into my dream. I grabbed my bags and wheeled them through a crowd of men in dirty overalls. They were all much older than me. A 22-year-old among a crowd of 40 to 50-year-old men, I stuck out like a sore thumb. My clean skinny jeans and Metallica T-Shirt under my reflective vest, I looked like a high school student on take-your-kid to work day, and all eyes were on me. Most of the men were hauling old duffle bags over their shoulders. I was wheeling my bright blue travel luggage when one of the men said “Going on vacation are you young feller?” a crowd of laughter erupted behind me as my cheeks grew 2 degrees warmer.

I climbed my way down onto the deck without saying a word and met an older man wearing the company logo, the name Ian underneath. “You the new kid?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Yes,” I squeaked.

“Drop your bags there until they get your cabin sorted out. Throw on your coveralls in the change room and meet me on the back deck”.

I shuffled my work gear into the empty change room. I sat there for a moment looking at the dirty walls and rusty lockers, breathing in the lingering diesel fumes from the ship's engine starting. I had never been anywhere like this before, and every ounce of my body was starting to tremble. I remembered my room, my hiding place, and the comfort I had daydreaming. This scene was never in the movie in my head.

I threw on my work gear as quickly as I could to get out of that locker room and into the fresh air. When I got on deck, Ian was there with 2 other crew members. They were all running around trying to run some new cable. Ian yelled for me to come and grab an end to help drag it into place. I grabbed a section and immediately fell, unable to join seamlessly with the forceful rhythm of the other two pulling with big strides. The rest of the day went much the same; everything felt so foreign. I had learned about all these tasks in school and had understood them completely, but it was as if all that knowledge had been wiped from my brain. I felt like a burden, and the rest of the crew seemed to be from a different world than me. How could I possibly relate and interact with these people for a full month? Then it hit me. I would be spending 4 weeks here. My heart was racing. Those old familiar panic attacks had set it. I took a deep breath. I could still quit and leave now, maybe this wasn't for me after all, maybe I'm not cut out for this. I looked over the side of the ship and we had already left the dock and were sailing out toward the empty horizon. I looked around at everyone on their cell phones, saying I love you's to their family. I pulled out my phone and was already at one signal bar. I phoned my Dad and ran to an empty corner of the back deck. He answered with such joy "hey buddy! How's it going down there?" Tears started to roll down my face, my spatial awareness went into overdrive, and I felt like I was going to die. I hadn't had a panic attack like this in a couple of years.

"I can't do this, Dad. I don't belong here. I need to quit, but we're already sailing and I don't know what to -"

"Take a deep breath, Colin. Tell me what's going on" his voice was more serious this time. He had been dealing with my anxiety my whole life and I knew he understood the state I was in.

I explained to him how I didn't fit in with the people here, how the work seemed way out of my league, how nobody had wanted me there.

My father, my number one supporter, the one who had gotten me out of every terrifying situation in my life with love, understanding, and compassion, without missing a beat said

"Well Colin, you decided to be where you are, and nobody is turning the ship around to take you home so you are going to have to figure this one out"

I couldn't believe it. That was it? Figure it out? You're Superman, put on your cape and get me out of here. But he continued

"You can't get in your head, and let a few bad moments spiral out of control. You are where you are because you have the smarts and the skill. Go talk to people. Get to know them, and I promise you, you'll realize that you aren't as different as you think. You wouldn't be there if you were". This answer didn't satisfy me one bit, but I was losing cell service, so I told him I loved him and I said goodbye.

Ian passed by as I put away my phone. "Change of plan, you're going to be on the night shift. The guys are in the galley, go grab a bite and they'll show you your cabin". Here we go again.

I walked into the galley and spotted the company work shirts huddled around a table.

I pulled up an empty seat next to a man much younger than Ian.

"You must Colin! You can call me Jimmer, nice to meet you" he said with a smile. The other two introduced themselves with much the same enthusiasm. I relaxed my shoulders a little bit.

"What have you been up to all day?", Jimmer asked, "have you gotten any sleep?".

I told him about the last-minute change in plan, and how I had been out with the day crew helping get things ready to sail.

"Ian had you out working already?" He rolled his eyes.

Shaking his head he said, "Ian's an asshole. You'll have more fun with us anyway".

The conversation went on for about an hour. They told me about life at sea and told funny stories from past trips. They asked about my interests and I was ecstatic to find out they were all big music fans and that we liked a lot of the same stuff. I had finally felt at ease sitting with this group of people.

"We should get to work," Jimmer said, clearing up his plate. I stood up to follow along

"Not you, you need a rest after today." He said with a chuckle.

"Cabin 204, down the hall on your right. Go get a few hours sleep and meet us on deck later and I'll give you a proper introduction".

When I walked into my cabin, it was surprisingly similar to my little room at home. My hiding spot. I unpacked my laptop and put on some music as I unpacked my bag. I was exhausted and truly couldn't wait to hop in the bunk. Getting out of the shower as quickly as I could, I crawled inside and pulled the covers up to my face. We were pretty far out to sea at this point and waves were high. I rocked back and forth in the bunk. I had been here so many times in my head, only surmising what it would feel like. I was correct, and it was exhilarating.

I awoke 3 hours later and felt surprisingly good. I stood up and tumbled with the roll of the boat. Getting dressed has never been harder. Walking up the hallway to the galley was an equally difficult feat as I held the side rails for stabilization.

There was a crowd of people on break sipping cups of tea and eating sandwiches. "There he is!" an older man with a large white beard said with a laugh.

I could feel myself blushing as I waited to be ridiculed. He leaned forward and handed me a sandwich.

"I told you he'd have his legs. I could tell".

"My legs?" I asked, still wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"Sea legs. If you're not getting sick in this weather you'll handle anything".

He stood up and put a hand on my shoulder before walking past.

"You're going to do just fine," he said with a wink.

Over the next few days, I got to know my crew and they got to know me. They took their time and showed me the ropes (sometimes literally). I got to pilot the ROV for the first time and experience the joy of being the eyes under the sea. All the things that drove me to be here, were finally starting to appear.

I even got to know the rest of the Ship's crew well and looked forward to our conversations over a sandwich at break time. Even Ian turned out not to be such a bad guy once he dropped his rough exterior to talk about football.

The days and weeks had flown before my eyes, and before I knew it was walking into my home again. My parents hugged me tighter than they ever had before.

My Dad took me by the shoulders.

"If I could have sent a helicopter to take you home, I would have".

"I'm glad you didn't".

I had spent most of my teenage years alone in my room, daydreaming about the world around me, as fear held me back from experiencing it first hand. I couldn't bring myself to go to parties, I didn't dare to ask the girl I liked on a date. I never forced myself to step out of my comfort zone, to grow as a person, to push my fears down and experience things that deep down I so badly wanted to experience.

August 24th, 2012 I asked the woman who I now call my wife on our first date.

June 17th,2020 I'm writing this story after putting my baby daughter down to sleep.

Step outside your comfort zone, and when the temperature gets hot, stay there. And when you feel like you're the only one in the crowd that doesn't deserve to be there. Get to know those around you, and you'll realize that you aren't as different as you think. You wouldn't be there if you were.