Day 3. The Vessel

Today's exercise is ... The Vessel: Write about a journey on a ship.

Hm, okay, writing about a journey on a ship. That’s a problem, I’ve never been on a ship. Will a boat do?

Way back when I was a teenager, my family and I were vacationing in Italy. One fine day it was decided that we would visit Capri. My late dad wouldn't hear of it, Capri is an island and the only way to get there was by boat. Dad didn’t like boats, because he hated, hated, hated, water.

But we weren’t alone, my late parents traveled with two other couples and their children and they made it their mission to get dad on a boat come hell or high water. To cut a long story short, dad eventually gave in. He looked at all the ships in the marina of Sorrento (where our hotel was) and figured those ships looked sturdy enough for him to be okay. So he gave the green light.

On the morning of our excursion to Capri dad got a bit of a surprise though … those big ships didn't go to Capri, only little boats did, boats that held a maximum of 12 people. “This isn’t a boat,” dad exclaimed, “this is a banana peel!” It took considerable persuasion, but eventually dad decided to risk it and stepped onto the boat where he got a second surprise … the boat had a glass bottom.

While all of us were mesmerized looking down at the fishes swimming in the clear blue water, dad sat rigid on the bench. He didn’t want to see no fishes, he didn’t want to see no water.

It got even worse as the boat pulled out to sea. At first we traveled at a gentle speed, the shipper allowing us to marvel at the blue water and the variety of fish, but at some point he ‘put foot down’ and the boat raced forward, bouncing up and down on the ever increasing waves.

Dad, as white as a sheet, started to look a little green around the gills. “Oeh” he groaned each time the boat hit the water, “Oeh, we’re gonna die. I know we’re gonna die. We’re not gonna make it.”

No sooner had we made it to Capri than we transferred from one boat into another, this time to go visit the blue grotto. This second boat was really worthy of the name banana peel. Only six people fitted in it and dad wasn’t going to be one of them. “No way,” he said, “you can go see the blue grotto without me. I’m staying right here.” Nothing and nobody could persuade him. So off we went without him.

As we arrived at the entrance of the blue grotto it became apparent why only banana peel boats undertook this journey … the opening of the grotto was so low no regular boat would have fitted.

Those of us who had their misgivings soon overcame their fear when they witnessed the magnificence of the grotto. It was a unique experience.

When we got back to Capri and told dad about what he had missed at the blue grotto he nodded “I’ll take your word for it.” When we got back to Sorrento he went inside a church and lit a candle for Saint Nicolas (patron saint of sailors). He never set foot on a boat again. 

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The importance of an up-to-date passport

I never gave my passport photo much thought. I figured if I could recognize myself, then others would too. Then I attended a lecture on the importance of using current identification and saw passport photos in a whole different light.

The speaker at this lecture was Phillip, a jovial, middle aged man, born and bred in St. Louis, Missouri.  As a financial consultant overseeing several accountants, he had traveled the world and had learned from his mistakes.  Assuming the role of a harbinger, he warned us about the dangers of an outdated passport.

"I can't stress the importance of up-to-date identification enough," he informed us. "Never mind if you don't look beautiful or even remotely attractive in your passport picture.  Be honest and look closely at your passport, or other identification picture.  Are you recognizable in your photo?"  Phillip then proceeded to relate his experience during a holiday visit to Israel fifteen years ago.  Hoping that they were about to hear a travel horror story, his audience hung onto his every word.

"If I had known then what I know now, I never would have traveled with an outdated passport photo," Philip began. "I had no trouble leaving for Tel-Aviv from St. Louis, and was treated with professional courtesy by all.  Unfortunately, when I returned to the States, I walked into a nightmare."

He recounted that the trouble started at Ben Gurion airport when he handed his passport to the customs officer for inspection. The male officer took one look at his photo, then he carefully looked at Phillip, and his brown withered face morphed into a mask of hostility.

"What is this?" he barked.

"My passport," Phillip had replied politely.

"Your passport?" the customs officer had said in a mixture of disbelief and contempt. "You want me to believe that this is you? This is not your passport. Look at this man. This man looks nothing like you."

Phillip smiled at first because the customs officer had a point. In the passport picture he was a few years younger and sporting an afro, while his hair at the time was shorter.  Due to the lack of a hair dryer, teasing comb and lacquer, his hair was now considerably less voluminous.

He was taken aside and led to a tiny windowless room.  A hermitage it seemed, dark, dusty and threatening.  After a while five men walked in, four surrounded him with guns, while the fifth one starting firing questions at him in a language that he didn't understand. When Phillip said that he didn't understand them, the leader of the group turned to English and instructed him to remove his clothing. Phillip thought this rather odd, but complied, all the while trying not to panic.

When ordered, at gunpoint, to remove his underwear too, he was not so compliant. More so, he was now severely ticked off and at a point where he didn't care anymore what happened.

"No !@#$ way!" he swore. "There is no !@#$ way I'm taking this off. You can !@#$ shoot me if you want, but I'm not taking off my underwear!”

Much to his surprise, within minutes he was let go. From what he was told his attitude and bad language had saved him. Apparently, only real Americans can swear with such gusto and resist getting naked even at gunpoint.

Needless to say, as soon as he arrived home from his holiday he had his passport picture updated.