The people you meet on boats
Boat journey dinner #1: It could be the beginning of an Agatha Christie novel.
On the first night of The Transatlantic Boat Journey of 20231, I shared a dinner table with a fascinating collection of women. Later that night, I jotted down in my Jimmy Book2 the kind of notes I wish I would’ve taken the rest of the time. It’s the nuances and seemingly mundane details that make people and life so interesting. Undocumented, though, they blur and blend into the background like the tiny bird—the object of a bling-collared black cat’s intense interest—a friend and I finally spotted in a needled tree this afternoon. A lot of the undocumented details of the boat journey have flitted away like hopefully the camouflaged sparrow was able to, so I’m glad I captured these ones at least.
For the hundreds of you who read my essays each week, thank you. I’m so glad you enjoy these stories and my writings. I know it’s not in everyone’s budget to be a paid subscriber, but your appreciation in other ways—particularly comments and likes on these posts—mean a lot and help me grow this publication. I’m so glad you’re here. Emily
Because I was solo, it made sense for me to attend the Solo Traveler Meet-up the first night. You know, go make some friends for the next 16 days of my WiFi-less life. Said gathering ended up being more for friendly travelers, solo or not. Apparently, some people like to stick to themselves on a journey like this, while others—couples included—want to make additional friends.
M, a tall woman with uncoiffed hair and no pretenses was the first person I met. I liked her right off the bat. You can imagine my delight when I found out she is a writer and journalist. Super cool and super down-to-earth, she primarily writes about movies and environmental issues. She introduced me to her group of new and old friends, and they invited me to join them for dinner. Thus it was that I came to be sharing dinner with strangers in the Main (fancy) Dining Room.
K, a very sweet Midwestern girl in her 20s had lost more than 100 friends due to drug overdoses of various kinds—Aderol and fentanyl among the offending drugs. After an ex-boyfriend died in a fight, she spiraled into substance abuse herself and almost took her own life. Somehow she’d been able to get clean, is happy with her life, and runs her own graphic design business. I shared how glad I was that she’s still here, that she’s on the boat, on Earth, and that we got to meet and share dinner.
Another woman at our table, A, is a happy bartender from Rhode Island. She reported “trying the corporate thing. It wasn’t for me.” This woman’s mother was her idol. A single mom of four kids, her mom was also an actress. She referred to her longtime boyfriend as “my sweetheart, Tim” and recommended the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency Series for reading.
Another woman, L, this one from New Jersey, is a seasoned dog trainer. She and her husband have been married for 30 years and are childless by design. From a Native American dog trainer she remembered learning the beautiful, and sometimes tragic truth, that “Dogs take what they’re given and make it work.”
T from Florida was the spitting image of Kristin Wiig, only a decade older. She has 10 grandkids, has been running her own business since 2006, and implemented remote work for her employees before that was “a thing.” She tells her kids, “I’m off to Europe to spend your inheritance!” According to her, “It’s bad for kids to receive a lot of money.”
Everyone could have been making their stories up, but in a situation like this, there’s no reason to be anything other than brutally honest. That said, I have no idea what to believe about the last woman at our table. And maybe one day I’ll work this whole scene, and certainly this last character, into the beginning of an Agatha Christie-esque novel.
My notes about B, an American now supposedly living in Ireland, are worth including as scribbled down that night. Fleshed out only mildly for readability.
Woah. A true character. Couldn’t tell how much of her behavior was due to alcohol or nerves or just a unique personality. Lots there. She said she was a “widower,” but referred to her ex. She’s taught English for twenty years, but has also worked on trawlers. Profusely apologetic for assuming I was “fleeing Mormon” when I mentioned I’d sold my home in Utah, then told me her best friend is LDS.3 Later in the convo I think I understood that same best friend is actually Catholic (with LDS parents). Wanted to shake hands multiple times in the convo. Talked loudly. When she needed something—hand up in the air for whoever she saw next. At 8:15pm out of the blue she says, “Is the ship moving?” L burst out laughing in a good-natured way, delighted. (We’d been sailing at this point for multiple hours.)
Several days into our boat journey, this group of first-night table companions began asking each other, “Have you seen B?” None of us had seen or talked to her since that first night.
A rumor had been circulating—I suppose no boat journey made mostly of strangers is without plenty of these—that a passenger had gone overboard. Given her, ah, interesting behavior that first night, we wouldn’t have been surprised if it’d been her.
Thankfully, B was sighted shortly after this. Phew! She lives on and I’m glad. For her continued existence, for that very memorable dinner, and these women who will—with the details of their lives—remain part of this chapter of my story. Here’s to remembering to write down even more details about life and people. True or not, they’re what make the stories worth telling.
Isn’t life cool and aren’t people interesting? See you in the next one…
You can search More to Your Life by “boat journey” to see other pieces where I reference this. Because it’s where I wrote the first draft of Dear Fellow Dreamer, the story is more fully shared there.
I call my pocket-size Moleskine notebooks “Jimmy Books” and they contain my treasures from the past couple years. The term comes from L.M. Montgomery’s Emily books. Emily’s cousin Jimmy supplies her with notebooks she’d otherwise not be able to get for her beloved writing.
I am what has formerly been known as “a Mormon.” A fleeing one I am not. I’m a very happy member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints which sometimes gets abbreviated as LDS.
Emily’s writing is truly authentic. Feels like you’re having a conversation with her as you read her writing. Great introduction to these characters. Now I want to hear what happens next.