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| Part 9 Farewell |
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Aug. 16
In the morning, I am wakened by a weird sloshing gurgling sound running through the hull. Ah, the smell of diesel in the morning. The fuel truck has arrived. There is some last-minute packing. Bernard shows up with the oilcoat I forgot in his car yesterday -- the weather was too fine to even think about it. How in the world am I going to cram it into my suitcase?? I had to sit on it, as it was.
People are having breakfast, the merchandise is being put away, & 2 new passengers have arrived. As they introduce themselves, I hate having to add, "...and I'm leaving." There was room, I was invited, & today I really don't want to go home. There is a very weird sense of not belonging anymore as the crew have their capstan meeting & discuss getting underway. |
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I take my stuff to the hotel, & come back to see the ship off. They are getting the gangplank aboard, & mate Caleb is standing holding it when passenger Erin, the last of us last 3, finally skips off. |
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Hoisting in the gangplank. There's your last chance to get ON... |
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All packed & nowhere to go. |
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| Bounty drifts away from the dock. I stand on the solid, unmoving shore and watch the gap grow. There is a feeling of inexorable separation, a rending sense of loss. When the gap widens to a distance no longer jumpable, it is clear that I am ashore again, left behind not by choice but by the nagging call of life in the real world, of duty back in another life. Oblivious to the hundreds of festival-goers behind me, I stand on the dock and cry as my ship slips away down Belfast Lough toward open sea and new adventures. |
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Europa, & aerobatic display. I hung around till all the ships had left, but after a few minutes' conversation with the security people, I turned around & Bounty was out of sight. |
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| When I signed on for this big scary voyage across an ocean, I figured that it would either cure me of liking tall ships, or ingrain it for good. Hiding tears behind my sunglasses and wishing I had run away to sea for just a little longer, I know that I am not cured. |
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I wander around the tent market near the wharf. There's an arm-wrestling championship going on, & there are tons of craft & souvenir vendors. For the festival-goers, the activities & fun will continue, but I feel quite bereft.
So, it's off to the Holiday Inn Express for a very short stay; I'll have to get up at 4:20 to catch my early flight. It'll be like getting up for watch... only there is no watch. |
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Shane the Irish Sheep is happier to arrive in Halifax than I am. |
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| Holiday Inn Express, downtown Belfast. Nothing wrong with the hotel; I just don't want to be here. |
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PAGE 13 |
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PAGE 11 |
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HOME |
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...the last one. really. |
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