Life after boat life is going to be weird.
Sometimes you’ll forget that, eventually, you’re probably going to leave your boat. Maybe you’ll still be living on it tomorrow, next week, or even next year, but perhaps somewhere down the line you’ll live on terra firma again. It’ll be hard to jump back into civilization and not feel cooped up or even trapped, and not become hopelessly irritable each time you step indoors. It’ll be hard to adjust your habits — especially your hygienic ones — to societal standards. Taking a shower won’t mean jumping off the boat into cool, translucent waters anymore. Nor will it include vibrantly colored fish, sea turtles, dolphins, or dodging dinghies. Water faucets and shower heads are going to leave you baffled and amazed for months. There isn’t going to be an infinite amount of stars glowing above your head at night. You’re not going to feel as terrified or astonished when thunderstorms and windstorms pass through. You’re going to miss seeing, smelling, and hearing the change in the weather and in the seasons.You risk so much by diving into the unknown. You risk giving up everything that gives you joy in the hope you can find something greater, and you risk finding nothing at all. But that’s the beauty of it. No matter how long you decide to stay salty, you’ll always carry the inspiration, wonder, and desire boat life will instill in you.
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