Just another rainy day

Dear Bloggers,

When it was time to leave after working late hours, I rushed to my car and immediately drove home. On the highway, halfway home, the rain began a heavy downpour. It covered everything on my windshield. The heavy rain made it so hard for me to see anything in the road. My windshield wipers could hardly do the job. The radio played Bruce Springsteen's song Tougher than the rest... I dozed off into memory lane back to my younger days when I was a Teen and Cowboy movies came on television. Smoking and drinking were not seen as bad habits. In my younger days I smoked dark tobacco and yes I rolled my own cigarettes. Furthermore I worked as a bartender in a local club so drinking was a common thing as well. And trying some soft drugs was also part of my youth. Not being afraid of what this could cause to my health as we did not know anything about the risks because there was no education about smoking, drinking only about drugs we knew that the hard stuff like heroin could cause a lot of damage. 

I remember that we got to see the movie Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo the story of the teenager Christiane F. who got addicted to hard drugs. This made me realize that drugs could do more damage than what I was aware of. Still I kept on smoking and drinking for several years as the only thing that changed over the years is that I became a Sailor. And yes we all know how sailors are. Well that picture is wrong I can tell you as the work at sea became in the last decades a more dry environment. In the last years of my career at sea there was zero tolerance policy on the ship and that was simply risking your job when you had to come to the bridge for a breathalyser test. Only smoking was a hard to stop habit as crew members still could buy cheap smokes. Some steam engines must have been pretty jealous of me. My engine was running for many hours a day.

When I left the ship I was still smoking a lot but as timeshedules became tighter and it became stressful to find breaks to get a smoke. I decided to stop smoking and that was easier said than done. Somehow after a few fails, I succeeded. It is approx. Ten years now that I stopped and I still can enjoy the smell of smokers that are standing outside at the station. No my life did not become boring it just made many changes in a hard way due to my wife falling ill in that same period. It started all on the day when I slipped on the top of the staircase and ended up in hospital and they told me that I've been lucky that didn't break my neck. As my speech was shattered and I wasn't able to speak any of my foreign languages anymore. 

With some hard work of specialists and some dear friends I recovered and after a couple of years I was back on the ship again. Something in my mind had changed and I became a bit of different person and I took life a bit more serious. When I left the life at sea in 2009 I took my time to decide what to do next. I got my driving license for the bus and started the education for commuter buses in the spring of 2010. I still was a smoker but not that heavy as in my sailing days. Drinking I did only on Holidays and free weekends. 

 

And then I was after a few years one of the regular temps that worked for the same company but in a different town. I enjoy still every minute as this job is bringing as much joy as during my days at sea. I love to take the mickey out of people and yes I still give service whenever possible that's just part of who I am. But when the wind is howling around my bus and rain is smashing in my windshield, the old sailor in me is waking up and salty water is running through my vanes. My face is having that special smile towards passengers and comfort them with the feeling not to worry with me at the steering wheel. And yes bad weather on the road is sometimes as tough as bad weather at sea. You only miss the monstrous waves and the challenge of walking in a straight way. Handling the wheel of bus is different kind of discipline but still a challenge to stay on the narrow roads. 

The only thing is when I have to drive home in this kind of weather I am really being homesick and those days at sea will never return as slowly but surely I am reaching the days that I growing older and my kids are becoming the grown ups in this brand new world which didn't become a lot prettier. They have much more to worry about. Probably they could not life their lives like I did. As the heating in the car seat is doing it's job as a lower back pain reliever. I realize that those days are long gone and my trip down memory lane is the only thing that I have left. No one will take these memories from me. Everyday being home is also worth a lot. There will be some nights that I am driving home in severe weather and my heart is crying a little bit for not being a sailor anymore.

Even though the visibility through my windshield was poor due to the heavy rainfall, I still continued to drive, hoping that I didn't get into an accident on the road. I knew as soon as the rain would come down in a more normal way, it will increase my visibility and chances of getting home safe and sound. Just remember that speed isn't anything it's the matter of getting there.

The Old Sailor,

Maybe February is the time for endings

Dear Bloggers,

The bus company I work for has offered me a steady contract for 32 hours per week. I am happy and on the other hand I feel a bit sad. I have been living my life on the wild side if I may say so. I have never been a regular Joe if it comes to jobs. All the jobs that I have done in my past are not all the best paid ones in the world. At least I had fun and saw an awful lot of our planet. And now it’s the last day of February the last day as a Temp. Tomorrow it is the first of March and my contract is activated. It gives me the shivers.

Maybe February is the time for endings. Some of the worst things in my life have happened in February. No, that’s untrue- they just feel like they all happened in February.  Endings tend to have a similar quality: a slowness that’s not the same as a bleak, cold, February morning. 

Then your blood seems like it will never be warm again, sluggish through your veins, now, it just feels like it’s gone underground. It’s not the slackness feeling of a hot, humid, summer, with the sun merciless on your face, turning your skin from brown to a burning and glowing sensation, when you can’t make the effort to even reach out to that cool glass of beer that your wife has placed on your table. No, this is the hushed, sticky quality of the air before the rain suddenly falls in a sheet, and you’re soaked from head to toe; your umbrella dripping uselessly onto your shoes, as the “road” that you walked underneath turns to a muddy river in two minutes flat.

What just happened, you ask yourself, even as you sigh and think “February”. Snow has gone, Winter just packed it’s suitcases and springtime has not arrived yet. Afterward, you try to pick it apart: And loop the past on a scratchy rewind, like those tapes you played over and over until they became scratching, static bursts between the snatches of that so familiar love song. Where the hell  is it, you think, just that one moment, the turning point when it all started there were you found the right one, the moment that you found love is coming undone.

You’re looking for the sign, that one dark cloud in the distance, the flash of lightning, but sometimes all you’re left with is the clear sky ahead and the thickening air, that is taking your breath.

One morning I woke up and found a baby spider that  has crawled into the folds of my fading grey lounging set that sits outside the deck in our garden. It has been unexpectedly cold the last few nights and the little rascal had probably sought out the warmth of the couch cushion.

I flap my hands at the furry resinous intruder: unsurprisingly, it moves not an inch. “I’m giving you ten minutes while I brew the coffee for myself and the tea for my wife”, I tell it solemnly: “after that, you’re out”.  When I step out again, my hands slowly warmed by my steaming mug of coffee, it’s gone. I feel both smug and guilty; like I’ve won a battle and lost a more important war; like I’ve missed the forest for the trees, like I have once again, failed to read the signs.

How are you feeling, my wife asks me. “Okay”, I say and she accepts it for what it is: a barefaced lie. We are, neither of us, strangers to this; when all the stuff inside is so tangled that the only possible answer is just a simple “Okay”.

There’s a dissonance that leaves me tongue tied; the inexplicable chasm between what I know I should feel, and what I do feel; akin to letting yourself in with the key and just finding yourself in a stranger’s house. This is familiar territory, I remind myself. You’ve been here before, you know how this goes.

Endings are not an undiscovered land. And yet. I look up The 5 steps that I learned in the past years again; try to see what I’ve missed. Everything, it looks like; there is no progression, no gradual climb down. I’m just here. But there must be, I think, increasingly desperate for something, anything that feels familiar.  But no, this is the fun house mirror version of myself, everything in its place and just that bit distorted, rendered unrecognizable.

I imagine what a therapist would ask me: how are you sleeping, are you eating regularly, do you shower, do you make the bed, do you change your clothes, do you exercise? Answer: Well, yes, yes, yes, yes, no, but I never did, it’s not unusual. I still hate work for the usual amount, not more or less.

You should be happy mate, a colleague  tells me, I’m not saying who had some rough times in his past. I tell him a long and involved story about how I have lost many people on my way that kept me company. This is not a problem but having a contract is also having some obligations towards my job before it was easier to get a day off as there were no strings attached, to me life is like a friendly cow a huge white-and-black speckled beast. It moos at odd times and reminds me that life goes on; that February, in fact, can be great for some species: plentiful green grass, the fresh air that comes with some springtime smells; outside it’s getting more and more pleasant, of course with slightly unpredictable weather and cool nights.

I lie in bed and listen to the night sounds the squeaking of the roof, the occasional drunken song from two houses away, the rain showers that bash into the windows, a faint siren in the distance from a firetruck, some kind of chirping sound.

That gives me exactly that feeling that you’ve got during the long lazy summer nights. That moment your sitting at the kitchen table and a moth wanders in, flirts with the dazzling white light and then wanders out. It’s not hard to fall asleep on these days, when my thoughts seem to have no particular direction. When I wake up, I don’t remember my dreams.

Fact: time moves forward and I am getting old.

Fact: February seems to last forever.

It’s cold at night, during the day it shifts rapidly from sunny spells to bashing rain showers. Running around in winter jackets and sunglasses on. I’m doing my job for the last day as a Temp. Tomorrow I am one of the guys with a steady job. It feels like a new episode in my life, is this the final destination to my pension.

How are you feeling?, I used to ask others; and now I ask myself: How are you feeling?, the answer is that It feels pretty double and even a bit emotional. Although inside of me the salty blood is still flowing through my veins. I will be an Old Sailor forever.

The Old Sailor,

Morning fog

Dear Bloggers,

Last Friday, the sun was shining like it is almost summer. After the morning fog was covering the world with his coat and at half past nine it all cleared away, the blue skies and a mild burning sun appeared. And that remains throughout the day. And while the temperatures can rise to nearly 20 degrees. I am having the day off, so it is all very good. I have plunged myself in full force in a new hobby project and I have been busy sanding some panels. Our young dog is playing in the garden and tries to get my attention with occasional mischief. I enjoy the sun on my pale skin and think that life can be so beautiful and if it would be financial possible, I would only occasionally work for a few days.

Full stop is not needed, but it would be nice if you could organize your own time, for example, only the winter period to do some work. But that will only be a dream, I am afraid. So enjoy all of the few precious moments I have. After a few hours I make a cup of tea for me and my wife and we chat a bit about the daily stuff and I am going outside for an other hour and then we're going to do a little shopping in a local supermarket.

I miss the days when I was at sea and feel that there is a change of weather coming. That's something you read in the sky and feel the slowly becoming colder air around you. It's pretty soft spring weather but I do not think it will remain. After dinner we watch some television and every half an hour my head is nodding and my eyes are closed. Tired but satisfied we crawl under the covers and I have to go to work in the morning and then again tomorrow afternoon I will go on with my hobby project.

But when I step through the front door of our house the next morning it is pouring rain. Spring has clearly ceased it's introduction today. A drizzling rain seeps this morning in a gray suited sky. At such a gray day, I'll grab everything to make myself feel better. Travel to the South. The South: leave this swampy land, if possible, I would flee. But unfortunately, I can't because we are financial unable to pay for this kind of debauchery.

At moments like this I miss the time I did spontaneous actions together with my wife and we woke up drunk in a strange world of pleasure stung with the first sun rays on our naked bodies. When I walk the dog during the afternoon in this rainy weather, on the field on the way home. I am walking slowly and in my thoughts I'll see a man that looks like an old sailor It is a gray-haired man with a weathered face, a beard and a body that has been build by hard labour. In my mind I named him immediately. "The Old Sailor" And as I would soon discover: there I was not far wrong. "If I were you, I'd better get home, there's coming a decent bit of rain," he said when he saw me. He just had the words out, it started raining again. "Come, I live around here," he invited me. I hesitated. Finally, I knew him, but on the other hand he was a stranger that I just met. But he seemed to have no mischief and did not want to harm me, so I took his invitation.

Once in his house I got the feeling of being in a museum. Hung everywhere and all around me there were the most exotic objects. Our dog, sniffed curiously around. The old man seemed to find it all okay. He made a cup of tea for me and soon we were both sitting down, he began to tell about his life. He had sailed a large part of his life, but had to go ashore when his health deteriorated. He looked sad. "For me, no sailors funeral and a watery grave ..." he said softly. I felt sorry for him, but did not know how to comfort him.

So I pointed hesitantly at a small statue that stood nearby and asked where it came from. That was a good hunch: the face of the man brightened, and he began to tell. It already stopped raining when he finished his story. For me it's time to go home. 'Please come along, "he said when I left the house. I would definitely do. The old man was a fascinating storyteller and behind the other objects in the house were trapped many more stories. Further, he didn't see anyone else at all. In his existence had never been a place for family, friends and all that he had met, The ones he knew were sailors.

In the days and weeks that followed, it became a ritual: walking the dog, ring the bell at the old man, and once we were seated I would designate an object to the tea. Then the Captain was (as I now called him Captain) an hour or more on his soapbox. When I come home and slide in my chair behind a cup of coffee, I think what a strange sensation I have met myself but older. A future that is uncertain but not far from the truth. I have more of these kind of imaginings and then I dream away about times long gone or something else it is vague. Like this story now I can not quite explain.

Numb I sit at the table and my wife asks what is wrong with you, are you okay? I nod, and fight my tears. The next morning I wake up with a strange feeling as if "the Captain" that night has died in his sleep.

I'm ready for a little boat, I think and search on the Internet and find a particular boat. In the port arrived I almost fell off the scaffolding of laughter. The boat that belonged to the ad I knew very well. Regularly I had told people around me joked that that thing I would have for peanuts from his owner. I would take the ugly duckling from his hands, to give it a much needed face lift. And if it was meant to be, it was now mine. For a moment I had the idea that "the Captain" gave me a wink from above.

I had no clue at all of maintaining a boat or how to fix an engine. So I had the little boat thoroughly inspected by someone who had the knowledge and had a look at. Of the money I had saved up for this kind of project, I bought all the necessary stuff. I hit the chores: I sawed, hammered and painted, and had the time of my life. The other occupants of the port came curiously watching what I was doing. Some pointed meaningfully to their foreheads. Others gave me advice on how I could build and fix things they had obviously had the biggest fun about the hideous boat and that strange bird belonged to it. But that did not bother me and I enjoyed everything I did very much.

Once I was sure the boat would stay afloat, I got my license for sailing a boat. Now I brought a sleeping bag and some other stuff on board and proud I started the engine. Together with my wife, I went on board, and I headed for the coast. My boat was obviously not meant to travel at sea, but I ventured a short distance offshore.

My heart was beating like a buzzing beehive and the sailor in me woke up as i was struck by lightning. The sun danced in the air. I peered through my binoculars and saw the coastline gradually disappear The serenity of the open sea brought me back to the moments I have known from the time that I sailed around around our planet. I watched around me as we disappeared on the horizon and were rolling on the waves. The Captain was back home? 

 

I turned the boat around and sailed slowly back in the direction where we came from.

When I get closer to the port I all of a sudden wake up from my dreams, I realize that I've been sitting here behind the computer daydreaming and all of this again has been coming up in that silly brain of mine. Yet these are the happiest and finest thoughts I have and they are often around the corner if the weather is bad and the world is gray. It's a beautiful world in my dreams.

The Old Sailor,

Hit by nature in a bad way

Dear Bloggers,

It was a hot summer evening with dark thunderclouds hanging over the fields and my wife and kids looked happy when I finally showed up after work. I had to work the late shift and my youngest was sound asleep when out of nothing a thunderstorm came around and my oldest was sitting in front of the kitchen window watching raindrops plink the puddles when she heard a rumble outside followed by a loud bang. My youngest daughter was downstairs in a millisecond. From that moment the wind speeded up to hurricane strength and wiped out everything on its way.

 Things I met on my way

During the ride I phoned home that I could see this enormous thunderstorm coming at me and she told me that it just went over them and it was bad. As I drove closer towards my home the rain pounded on my windshield and the wipers had a hard job to do. The rain caused a kind of ground mist and made it hard to find the road and some trees had fallen over the road. A few kilometers from home all the trees had fallen over on houses and cars and also the phone connection failed to work. I got pretty worried when I saw all the blue flashing lights coming towards me. I took some effort to get around the fallen trees. 

All of a sudden there was a tree in the way

They all looked very happy when I walked in the front door. My wife knew right away it was me, though she could never say how. There were always cars idling in the street at night, boyfriends of neighborhood girls giving it one last shot, suburban kids after a night out in town. The storm crushed up the TV signal too much and the wind hauled too loud and made the windows tremble, the flashes kept them up at night.

 The world turned all off a sudden pitch black

the other campsite the day after

 

When the wind had eased down after half an hour, I talked to some of the neighbors and found out that on a campsite about 750 meters away that a little child was stuck in mobile home as a tree fell on top of the wagon. The child just came that day to have a bit of a holiday with her grandparents. The fire brigade had too saw themselves away towards the campsite to get the ambulance services down there. Some of the locals went over there with chainsaws and big tractor trying to lift up the tree and to rescue this child.    

They did what they could for her, although they could not reach her. She lost life before the ambulance was there, very sad.

horror on the campsite

 

But she was too badly injured that before they could get her out she had passed away. A sad story that shook up our little village as in my neighborhood there are a lot of young families with kids. We understand very well that this 7 year old girl has been fighting for her life but did not make it. An unbearable trauma for everyone that was involved.

We live in the houses behind the trees in the distance

This tree snapped like a match

 

The next morning when we had breakfast, I scrambled some eggs and bacon done crisp the way I knew they liked it. I put everything on the table made the girls some tea and for myself plenty of strong coffee. Sometimes we’d sing together, doo wop harmonies from when they were little girls or one of a half dozen Christmas songs, a morning serenade that would carry me through the whole day. Then we would leave in a swirl of laughter and going to a fun park as we had planned, pulling away with horns honking, long after the other dads had gone to work. When we left, just the song on the radio from Pearl Jam “Just Breathe” could bring me to tears.

 “All of this happened a bit more than a week ago” During our walks in the area we realize that we have been very lucky. As another campsite a few kilometers away was hit as well and a caravan was blown over and injured a couple. It looked like a warzone, the pictures will tell the rest of the story

On the next day while I did the dishes I studied a map, tracing the storms route with a yellow highlight pen.

No Damage at all

My neighborhood

Outside the rain had stopped and the sky was turning gray again. The car in the yard looked cold. Soon it started to rain again and yesterday it was a beautiful and sunny day again. A sad day and time to check out the damage only the tent of the neighbors was smashed by the wind and some of the trees were ripped up.

Mamy trees fell over

 

Lightning flashed outside the window and a loud crack of thunder shook the dishes in the cabinet. More thunder rolled right over top of them, breaking off somewhere to the west. Still none of us did cry. But this time all of us were awfully quiet. Lightning flashed as we made their way up the hallway. When we got to the kitchen the storm was just drifting off.

The Old Sailor,