Oh how I love the sea. I could in no way love it any less however, whenever I step on a boat a wave of nauseousness always succumbs to envelop me. so I have grown a immense loathing for boats all boatsx skiffs, yachts, concrete oceanliner you name it, doesn't matter I'd rather swim to my destination thank you, that or take a train. I have no prejudice nor any phobia for planes. Why my father had to be a sea captain and his father before him, is beyond me. My grandfather especially thinks I loathe the sea, he claims I have no stomach for the nautical profession. The truth is I have a stomach, just not for boats,as for the sea I have no need to explain any further on the subject. My issue is mostly with my grandfather not the sea but I haven't the heart to tell him because he has his issues as well, too many issues as a matter of fact. One of his issues that I doubt he would ever admit is me; apparently I am somewhat of a disappointment to him. He's never gotten over it, never gotten over me. He's relentless my grandfather is and my father just plays along with him. They take turns terrorizing me much to my discomfort. Perhaps terrorize is not the right word, severe criticism is more accurate. They both have a high tendency to over exaggerate. Now please do not think I have a particular loathing for my family though they bmay somewhat loathe me, regardless I love my family. It is mostly a male dominated one which is why the point in question has been for many years the lack of my masculinity. Do I lack it masculinity? Well I know that is definitely not my problem my problem lies with the inner ear. Grandfather won't believe that, my father will tolerate the idea and in his own way I suppose he supports me. Those who do not support me they pity me. The poor deae they must think. Is he really the son of Nemuel? What a pity he doesn't have his grandfather's panache. Indeed to be me a 33-year-old man allergic to boats, I have to say sometimes, I even disappoint myself. I don't mean to be negative but when one is surrounded by negativity from all sides,every day from sundown to sunset, it's difficult to keep one's spirits afloat. One does not have to be anywhere near water to feel as if one is drowning. I must admit I have that sensation continually and I've always had a rock in which to anchor myself. This rock has saved me through many a raging storms. This rock has kept me sane, safe and steady even when all the world is rocking about me. This rock is the Christ. I don't mean to be preachy but I would've drowned in self-pity and worry long time ago without him. I have no problem complaining as long as it is to him. There's no sin in complaining as long as you don't complain too much. I went to complain to my father, perhaps I did so more than once in a day. I learned quite swiftly that not everyone wants to hear your complaints vocalized. Come on Dad even the prophets of the Old Testement complained.What is the Book of Job all about? Bad health problems? So I only complain silently now so no one can hear. This is rather sad I know. I like to keep the peace,be at peace and have peace with everyone I'm around. I'm not exactly a passive person, in fact I can be as stubborn as tar. I may have a bit
of my grandfather 's fury but I have my mothers heart. Though I did not know her well I feel I definitely must be her child because of what I've seen in my dad's eyes. I see his face stir, his mouth quiver, his eyes swimming with memory, memory of her. I know who he's thinking of and who he is remembering. I see warmth and joy on his contenance enjoying and in his eyes. I see a world where he laughed and he danced, a world of the past no doubt still beautiful because that was a world where my mother lived,laughed and danced with him. How I wish I knew the story of that life,the story of that world, the story of how they met. The story of everything really. I'm sure if I asked he'd only say 'There's no future in the past son there's no point in lingering on it right?' I agree, I nod he nods and then we move on. Now mind you my father is not a silent man. We rarely have miscommunication problems, in fact if we have a problem we talk the problem out until it is solved or until there are no words left to speak up on the subject. This is a rarity as you have probably heard saying 'He talks like a sailor.' Grandfather however does not tolerate profanity especially at the dining room table. Those are the house rules we can't deny them, not unless you want to suffer the wrath of Nem!
In case you're wondering why I write so awkwardly it is because I am Welsh. We come from a long line of Welsh. So I've always spoken a bit off beat; that is my speech is off beat and often people have difficult time understanding me. I don't think I'm difficult to comprehend but the whole world thinks differently. I grew up with the Welsh in my home therefore my accent is Welsh. It's sometimes maddening for other sailors to have a one on one conversation with me. It's more maddening for them than for me. Nemuel and Jabez, my dad have no trouble. They are practically natives to this tiny Non-Welsh town. They act as if they were born and raised here. I know for a fact that neither of them ever did any such thing.
Everyone seems to know them but I'm just a name. By jove it took years just to have them call me by name. They'd address Nemuel and then my father and lastly they would refer to me as "Jabez' Son".
'Oh hello Jabez' son, or 'How you do Jabez' boy'. This was the norm for a great while until they learned I had a actual name. The it was ' Oh Milo my boy' or 'Oh Heavens if it isn't Milo who's come to visit us'. Then at last life became a little more bearable. Recognition however dose not make up for respect. I needed respectability. I craved it. No noble name was going help my failed reputation;or shall we say nauseous reputation. Nothing short of a miracle would do for me. I was unmarried and still green in the face every time I stepp,ed onto a boat.
I was a embarrassment to my Father, a embarrassment to my grandfather and a embarrassment to my own Welsh heritage. I couldn't stand the shame. I couldn't stand period, on any good sea going voyage. One day I wouldn't be able to face my own family. Perhaps i could go into hiding. Yes I'd make a right fool of myself in front of all my grandfather's best clients and then he'd have to hide me away for sure. Often many well to do families had a secret they kept well locked up. It was that dud of the family that they wanted no one to know about. The freak of the clan that they kept under lock and key upstairs in a tower. Yes call it child abuse but anything would be better than this eternal embarrassment.
Unfortunately it was too late, everyone knew my name and face well enough. They didn't know me personally yet they all knew enough to satisfy them. Enough was enough with these villagers. Nemuel was a hero in their eyes. Their village was nothing till he introduced the joy of tourism. Tourism is good for the everyone all around. The economy of that tiny town highly benefited from Nemuel's services. He'd been a fisherman previously and he'd been taught the ways of boatmanship since he was a boy. He offered the town boat tours for newcomers. At first it was just a small fishing boat he built himself. Eventully the boats increased in size. He had a ferry boat at one point and that was such a huge success that he eventually he even bought a nicely furnished yacht. The ferry business did not shut down altogether rather my father took the ferry and Nem drove the superfluous looking yacht. Nem wasn't getting any younger so he gave the management of the yacht to my father.
The real kicker was my father was not getting any younger either. So someone would have to step up to the plate and take on the family business; that someone was me.