Sail Away

I awakened the following morning to a sundrenched, cloudless day. The air was crisp and crystalline. It seemed to match my internal excitement. Today was the beginning of the new phase of my life!  Up to now, everything had been preparation and anticipation.  Now it was real.

               I grabbed a quick bite and hurried outside.  I looked around, stunned.  Everything and everyone seemed utterly unchanged!  No one walked with a livelier step!  No one seemed to notice a child’s lilting skip!  Nobody smiled at strangers in passing!  Everyone was going about their business as usual!  I wanted to shout!  “Wake up!  Wake up!  Don’t you feel the electricity in the air?  Don’t you realize that today is not just another humdrum day of existence?”   But I didn’t.  The excitement was within me.  I was the one whose life was about to change.  I was the one whose steps should have a lilt!  Time passed quickly as I absorbed it all.  Then, it was time to head for the ship. I returned to the hotel and called a cab. 

               Embarkation was a leisurely, casual experience.  I boarded early in case all the baggage I had shipped on ahead had been delayed, or, “Heaven Help Me”, LOST, and I would have to locate it!  Fortunately, when I arrived in my cabin, everything was neatly stowed under my bunk, so I took a tour of the upper decks.  At the main lounge, I was taken aback – it was set up for a large sail away party with a big “Reserved” sign at the entrance. I moved on only to find the next lounge was similarly set up.  As I moved around, I discovered that every available space, even small ones in corners, was reserved for a gala send off for carefree vacationers, shunning the routines of their work-a-day world!  By the time I arrived back to where I had started my tour, the champagne celebrations were well underway, and the joyousness of the occasion had begun to permeate the whole ship.  I retreated to the upper aft deck, which was singularly quiet, and where I could watch the proceedings.  What an anomaly I was. I was coming from a world apart!

               (I should mention that, in those days, it was legitimate for visitors to accompany passengers aboard ship and remain until just before departure, so most of the party goers would be leaving before the ship sailed.)

                Gradually, revelry oozed out onto the deck next to the pier where the ship was moored. The ship’s orchestra arrived with music, and excitement intensified as the hour of departure neared.  Then the clang of bells and a booming “ALL ASHORE” resounded across the deck. There were hugs and kisses all around, and a surge of well-wishers moved down the gangway.  A second “ALL ASHORE” boomed, and laggards straggled onto the pier. Stewards appeared with confetti, streamers and noise makers!  Passengers at the rail threw streamers and confetti, and shouted goodbyes, bon voyages and last minute instructions to the friends on shore as the ship slowly inched away from the pier.  My feeling of distance from the crowd intensified, the further we drifted away.

               I stood, immobile, on the upper aft deck, watching the departure.  The ship’s mournful ‘good bye’ blasts echoed across the water.  The crowd gradually disappeared into the ship.  I was alone. Tears flooded down my cheeks.  Still ringing in my ears were the admonitions of the naysayers, “If you do what you plan to do, you may never get home.” Were the skeptics right?   Were the decisions made so easily in the security of my job and friends ill-considered? Had I been blind wiser counsel?  Doubts flooded over me.  Here I was, about travel an uncharted path, subjecting myself to challenges that were deeply subconscious.   Was I overextending myself, cutting myself off from what was known and familiar in my life?   As the Golden Gate Bridge retreated into the brilliantly lit skyline, I wondered if I would ever see my country, my friends, or my beloved family, again.  I couldn’t stop the tears. 

                A swarm of stewards pushing brooms appeared and skated gracefully around the deck, pushing the celebratory debris ahead of them until the deck was cleared and there was no evidence of the previous events. It was as if my own memory was also being erased.  I could feel the lurching and twisting of the ship beneath me as it traversed the conflicting currents of the channel of the bay. The motion seemed to mirror the turmoil within me.  I tried, unsuccessfully, to quell my fears and reassure myself……

I couldn’t pull myself away from the disappearing horizon….  

Then abruptly, the ship fell into the rhythmic rise and fall of the open ocean swells.  Just as abruptly, all my anxiety subsided! There was rhyme and reason in the universe!  I had made well considered decisions!  The world would not desert me!   My tears stopped, and as I turned to go below, I noticed a woman and her son standing at the far rail.  I meandered over to them, and what turned out to be a long friendship, began!

               I returned below to learn that I was sharing my cabin with two of five lady lawyers from Boston, who vacationed together each year.  They were lively, spirited professionals. Each worked for a different law firm and specialized in a different aspect of the law.  When I accepted their invitation to join them at dinner in the evenings, I did not realize what witty, wide ranging discussions awaited me.  There was never a dull moment and I looked forward each night to a challenging conversation.  I also didn’t think much about it at the time, but in retrospect, I see what exceptional women they really were and how fortunate I was to have been included in their lives. In 1960, women with simple advanced degrees were a minority, let alone worldly women with law degrees who had passed the bar and were practicing lawyers!

               The days aboard ship flew by until, seemingly overnight, we would be arriving in port tomorrow!