Crew on the boat is like a wondering theatre troupe that plays only for themselves, being the audience and the performers alike - and we do put on a show, don’t we? The space is limited, the time seems endless. All the smallest tensions and sparks are magnified and present themselves as crucial problems or revelations.
The other day the captain wanted to wow us with his own take on the carbonara. To my horror, I realized that in a rush of the preparations for the departure, while checking the list of the meat order I forgot to notice that they failed to deliver the pancetta. And there’s no carbonara without it - needless to say.
So instead of spaghetti carbonara we’ve head spaghetti that looked like it, but tastes like a crossover between alio olio and a salt dispenser, because cured ham made the pasta so salty we had to make pit stop for water in between the bites. And it was all my fault. I kept reading everyone’s faces beside the table. How much do they hate me right now? Except from the captain’s face of course, because there was no need to - he was evidently, massively pissed off.
The other day a super romantic couple we have on board quarreled passionately because one declared his not helping with anything before breakfast. The day before we had a heated conversation about what kind of record to put on.
Fractions appear. Alliances form. It is not easy to hide an emotional scene on the boat even if it is a Bali catamaran. Even if you don’t want it happen, you overhear, you notice. And - for me at least - it is pretty embarrassing to show my private relations to other people that are not my closet friends. They do not understand the dynamics, I feel awkward trying to explain the nuances to them, the meanders and long tangled tails of daily exchanges. Fortunately people usually don’t really want to talk about it, they prefer to act as if nothing happened. It’s more comfortable. So pretty soon I am alone with my embarrassment and I have to live with it, until some new distraction appears and draws the attention to another pair, group or a problem.
They are also some sweeter tensions. Attractions, flirts, teasing. Our bodies are together - and as I said - the space is limited and the time seems endless. There are new bonds formed as we really have time to get to know each other and examine each other pretty deeply, from the shallowest to the deepest of levels. New friendships begin and we fill hours with discussing every aspect of life. Everyone is aware of everyone. Everyone wants to be close. There is no room for jealousy or being possessive - for this brief moment we are like a commune, eating together, making ( pretty racy sometimes ) jokes, doing pranks like school kids. We are letting it all hang out. We have no shame in having fun, asking questions we wouldn’t dare ask in a so called daily life. We refuse to be adults, to assume a pose we have usually, or well-known social role. Our brains tune to each other’s frequency. We have no other impulses than these from ourselves and our neurons are focusing on everything we handle to them with unusual intensity.
I love to watch how human procsemics change during the day. In the morning, I am writing away on my laptop in the saloon, with my friend who’s writing an app and his girlfriend writing down notes to her improv workshops.
At noon everyone is usually awake and the sunbathing on deck begins. Like caterpillars, people crawl from star board to port and back again looking for sunlight or shade. After lunch - the party time begins - we play games, talk over a beer, clean the boat together, cook dinner, we put some music on and sing. From time to time smaller groups form and have their separate conversations, from time to time someone decides that too much is too much and moves away to the parts of the boat usually omitted by social life or descends to their cabin to have some me time.
It is as important to hide as to show up during the Atlantic crossing. This delicate, fragile dynamic is not easy to sustain and it is a group effort. We decide to walk this tightrope, to dance on it and to perform strange figures sometimes but we must bear in mind not to cross the line. The fall can be pretty bad.
Meltdown’s are not welcomed during a crossing, nor is hysteria or panic. We do everything we can collectively - without even realizing it - to keep everyone’s mental health in the best shape. We intuitively know when to comment, when to look and when not to, we let each other cocoon, when to have a cursing match or have a flirty conversation in order to avoid developing true drama between each other. We keep watch on our emotions just as we keep watch on the sea waves and the wind - and they are equally wild sometimes - and wuthering.
Karolina