I only threw up once

Honestly, I didn’t really love the boat. It made me sea-sick with the rocking, and tossing on a ‘calm’ sea day.  My heart would jump to my throat, then dance to my feet within seconds.

Yet, I don’t love the land either. It seemed monstrous compared to the eighty foot boat. Everyone treated others like strangers, there were no happy greetings or cherry welcomes. Mainly there were stiff nods, simple replies, and the required small talk. 

My mind was somewhere in the middle, a place where I could run without worry. A place that didn’t exist, so for now I was stuck on the boat. It wasn’t really like I had a choice. 

My father had owned the boat since I was a baby, he claimed I had taken my first steps right below the wheel. He didn’t like my sea-sickness. He wasn’t cruel or anything, he never told me to get over it or to get off the deck. He would hold my hair back if I puked off the side, and would rub my knuckles as I ate crackers.Yet, after every episode of sea-sickness, he would say the same thing. 

“Well, one day you will sail the boat. One day you will simply have to understand the waves, and move with them,” he would chant, making the bits of our small crew roll their eyes, or sigh. My face would flash in new heat, embarrassed that everyone knew I couldn’t do this. 

I agreed with them. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t understand the boat, waves, and patterns of the clouds. I never would get it, I was going to fail my father without even a chance of trying. 

To this day I believed that, even after the many reassurances from my father. His pleas began to resonate with me, not that I still believed his words, but I did understand I was the only hope. 

Eventually, I understood my destiny, this little ship was the only thing I had to live for. The only thing my father lived for, what my grandfather lived for, and I was not going to let a little sea-sickness break that tradition. 

But now, let's talk about when that happened, When the day that everything fell to me, not just what I wanted but what my father wanted. 

The day my father planned to die, the day I inherited a boat, and managed to only throw up once. 

It didn’t even start off normal, my mind had become numb for days. The doctor had announced my father was dying, soon he would only be a memory. My mind had become cold, and I had grown distant to the crew that had become family. 

However, this morning I woke with quiet in my mind, a slight bit of warmth nipping the cold tendrils. I stretched, breathed, let out a sigh that had been kept in my heart. My feet moved without me pushing them, trailing to the bathroom closet, and other essential places for my morning routine. 

I settled in the dining hall, where the cold seemed to be almost gone, I would hardly miss it. I didn’t miss the glances that were sent my way, every time I laughed, or snorted from a particular bad joke. I hadn’t even cracked a smile in over a week, my hurting cheeks made me well aware. 

Eventually, the crew grew warmer to the change, laughing and chortling beside me. The mood became bright, lighter than it had been in weeks. My Uncle, who happened to be the cook for the crew, limped in the room. His heavy peg leg made a thumping sound on the wood, though it stopped when I looked at him. 

He had stopped dead in my tracks when he saw my face, bright and happy. The picture of a joyful seventeen year-old on my face, I watched as another tear dripped from his eyes. He didn’t seem like the rest of the crew, then I noticed my fathers hat in his hands. 

I felt the cold rush in, like the waves over the summer beach. The cold made my mind freeze, I didn’t hear anything, feel anything, everything stopped. I knew people were moving to me, the crew had become my family. Even if they laughed as I had an episode of sea sickness, they were there, they hadn’t left. 

I felt as they hugged me, some wrapping my shaking body in a loving hug, others cried with me. One took the hat from my uncle, setting it on the hat rack that was kept by the door. Its final resting place. 

Then the world stopped, came back again, and spun me forward. My heart jumped to my throat, and I barely managed to throw my cousin from our hug before I puked the small but of breakfast I had eaten. My Uncle grabbed the crew, and yelled to them as they exited the room. Calling for a pail, then to be given space.

“There, there. How about we sit on the chair, it's only just right there.” He cooed, doing his best with a small comforting tone. His rough calloused hands grabbed around mine, leading me to the chair. As I got seated, our blue eyes met, and for a moment I realized that not only had I lost a father, but he had lost a brother. 

My mind stalled for a moment, I realized how selfish I was being. So my father had died, my mother had died a long time ago, it was just a repeated occurrence. After that thought, a little part of me regrouped, I needed to be strong. 

I was the Captain now, no more small lessons, or off reminders, it was all up to me. I had a crew, people who would follow my name with no hesitance. The idea made my mind lighten, maybe, just maybe, I could do this. 

I stood up, and I definitely didn’t feel any nauseous waves over me, absolutely not. My Uncle stood there, then grabbed my arm to keep me steady. Then, with help, we trailed out of the room, and my eyes were sent downcast at all the people there. 

It seemed the entire crew was staring at me, their eyes wide, some of them red rimmed. I shrugged Uncle's arm off, this was important, I was officially their Captain. 

‘You could do this, I need to do this. Keep a brave face until you're at your counters, then it can fall away.’ I thought to myself, even though I knew I wouldn’t be in my room till nightfall. I took a breath in, keeping my eyes level with the crowd, they were awaiting their first orders. 

“Everyone to the top deck, there’ll be a meeting in five!” I called, my voice sounded slightly higher than normal. Yet, the crew fled, some fleeting pitied looks to me as they left. 

Uncle stood there, then followed the crowd to the deck. I was left alone, and I haven't felt this alone in a while. My mind froze for a moment, but I shook it off, there was plenty of time for that later. I adjusted my coat, making sure it was clean, with no vomit on the collar. 

I stalked up the stairs, my posture straight, keeping my face calm. I prepared the words in my head, and kept the overwhelming anxiety from taking over. My hands were shaking, and my palms felt sweaty. 

I entered the top deck with pride, my confidence radiation off me. The people on deck looked towards me, my embarrassment raised for a moment, and I felt my face burn when some of them bowed. 

I faltered for a moment when I was standing in front of them, I didn’t know if this was the time. I looked toward the bow, where the wheel stood proud. That would be the perfect place to do my speech, my first declaration as Captain. 

I faced the crew once I reached there, their gleaming faces were masked with confusion and questions. My breaching evened for a moment, and when I was sure I wouldn’t throw up or stutter, I started my speech. 

“Hello,” the words felt stuck in my throat, and it was hard to push them out. My mind was in conflict on what I should say, then I decided to speak the truth, “As you all know my father died this morning, I am now your Captain. I hope that you will still follow me and trust me, just like you did with my father. I believe we can make this work, and have a successful and joyful time together.” 

My mind calculated what I said, hoping the point of my message had gotten through to them. They all stood there for a moment, and as an afterthought I added. 

“You are dismissed.” They all nodded, walking off to do their previous duties. Some walk back down to the dining hall, or go to sleep after their night shift. 

I noticed Uncle in the crowd, his smile bright and filled with pride. I felt myself smile, and knew I had done well. He walked up to me, his shoulders back, and his smile still wide. He held up his hand for a moment, and I followed his gaze to the wheel. He wanted me to steer. 

I blinked, realizing of course I needed to steer. It was tradition for the Captain to steer them, and follow the course of the winds. My mind blanked for a moment, that was the one thing my father had never taught me. 

He had taught about speeches, holding yourself with pride, even in the most impossible situations. I had learned from him, everything I knew, to words, to making sure to tie every knot tightly. I had lost that teacher, and now I had to learn the one thing he couldn’t teach me. 

I stood by the wheel, tracing my hands down the sides, we were anchored so the wheel was still. I could feel the places my father had rested his hands, and most likely the generation before him. I felt tears well in my eyes at the possibility, I was finally taking my spot. 

I realized my Uncle was standing next to me, with his hand resting on my shoulder. I felt chills run down my spine, and I placed both of my hands on the wheel. I closed my eyes, and barely registered my Uncle calling for the crew to raise the anchor. 

I felt the wind rush through my coiled hair, my skin prickled, and goosebumps covered my arms. This was it. We started, the boat moved, and I watched the waves crease around us. I felt the thumping in the wheel, and the sun on my face. 

I felt calm, it was simple, my mind drifted. I felt full, revived, I understood. I danced through the clouds, and felt my heart beat with me. 

I ran to the farthest parts of my mind, a part I couldn’t reach, a thing my father couldn’t teach me. I was home, I was safe.