I was moored with Oscilia in the south end of the Moss canal, strictly against orders by the harbor authority, quietly hating my inability to take positive steps in my life, when the most beautiful ship moored astern of me. My heart was taken at the first glance. If you're not into ships like I am, this will be difficult to understand, so let me paint you a picture:
You see a woman, and in a flash you realize that she's the most beautiful being you've ever laid your eyes on, as the freshness of your impression shames the fading memory of those before. All you know in that moment is that just HAVE to go introduce yourself, to maybe know her beyond looks. In a short few words you know that she's not gorgeous, but also has tremendous strength of character, and in those moments you fall helplessly in love. If you're lucky, you'll talk yourself into some intimacy, and if you're good, you might get a more permanent engagement.
That's pretty much how it went for me with the Daphne. The spring of her deck line along her thirty meters of length, leading up to a high bow, a covered fore peak with a purposeful wave plow perched on top, presided over by a towering bridge atop a narrow superstructure, and the half rounded, pointed stern – it all added up to the most beautiful ship I could remember having seen. I walked over and introduced myself to the crew, and learned that she was originally built as a fishery inspection vessel for the sub-arctic environment, ice classed and solid as a rock, now being used for cruising around the world for the pleasure of her owner. I mentioned that I was an out-of-work marine mechanic, and might they have a few odd jobs for me? They did, I handled them OK, and suddenly found myself engaged as chief engineer.
Thus, very quickly indeed, my life changed in ways I wouldn't have believed possible. I was catapulted out of my hopeless self-loathing, into a brilliant, glamorous future of making lazy doodles on the world map. Of course, there were prices to be paid, in the form of turning my back on everything I knew, and most notably the end of my relationship with Lisette. This is the perfect example of the old adage: TANSTAAFL – There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. Still, this lunch is so sweet tasting that I pay my price with an easy heart.
