Since we've left the yard (with a nicely painted boat bottom, might I add!) and arrived back to the dock, we have done nothing but run around with our heads cut-off. Oh wait, let me rephrase that. ONE person has been running around with their head cut-off. Only, hold the running and add in, cleaning bathrooms and stair creases with Q-Tips. And what do you have? Enter, Banana Flaps! I am the one who has never been on boats before.. In case that sentence confused the hell out of you, let me explain as much as I can. The Kiwi twins on board like to make up nicknames for everyone on the boat. There is a Bum-cheese, Twelve-year-old-boy, Fattie and Banana Flaps, YAY! Ever heard of abuse in the workplace? Well this is to the extreme lol. If you're wondering what the hell that means, don’t fool yourself, there is very little reasoning behind anything the Kiwi twins do! But, as brought up at the dinner table last night, it refers to the 'flaps' of peel hanging off of a banana. ie. Banana Flaps. Welcome to my life. It's come to the point where I don't even question the Kiwi twins anymore, it's not worth my effort.
Currently I am sitting in the crew mess (i.e. the crews only part of the boat where we eat meals, make fun of each other and play the video game-show "Buzz"). I have just finished work and I am trying to type as my body and my tea are swaying around to the pleasant, not-so-pleasant bob of the ocean. greeaaaaaat. Knock on wood - i haven't been sick yet!
I have a feeling this blog is going to be my only "private time" though. Which, in all honesty, doesn't bother me. I like hanging out with the crew that has become my new so-called family. I am just thankful for a little time to write down my mistakes, and frustrations that come along with working on a boat for the first time. Aka, the Q-tip cleaning, or the fact that my childhood name Alana-Banana has been turned into Banana Flaps! ha. I don't want to seem tooo stupid in front of the pro-yachties, some of whom years of working in this industry well surpass my age!
We left Vancouver yesterday, on a good note. Although I would have to say some bars and clubs in the area would disagree! We drank too much, threw salt and pepper in a dirty hostel bar (well, Kiwi Twin 1 did. God I love him!), danced and flipped people on the dance floor and some innocent bystanders may have seen some nudity on the walks home. We threw down a pretty good show before we left Vancouver... leaving a tiny salt and pepper trail as we did so.
Next stop, Alaska.
xoxo
Day four of my work, and I just would quickly like to add a few words to everyone's vocabulary. Polishing. Plates. Dry Hands. Now, put those together and you have: ME.
In the past four days I am not exaggerating if I said I have polished 400 glasses, 200 plates and countless candle holders, salt & pepper shakers, stir sticks, vases and god knows what else. If it's in a cupboard, its-a-gettin polished! Another little tid-bit of advice. Looking for uniforms? DO NOT GO TO OLD NAVY! Since I have arrived here in the city I love so much, the only thing I've been hearing about are these navy blue pants. These navy blue pants just so happen to be the pants I work in. Every single day. And the ones that everyone else has a pair of already, as all the crew on the boat wear matching uniforms. And low and behold, they did not have my size, in fact they had everything BUT my size. Just to explain the extend of my hatred towards Old Navy, I can honestly say, that I JUST got ONE pair of pants to work in today [i'm suppose to have three in total]. And they weren't even from Old Navy. Fancy that. And you know why? Because Old Navy is closed at 5p.m. on a Sunday. 7p.m. on Monday and Tuesdays. The store itself is not visible to the human eye- after circling the mall it was in 3 times we still hadn't located it. I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow it is burnt down. Anything that store can do to stop me from getting pants, it will. Other than that, my boat-life is great. We are staying in a rather fancy place in Longsdale Quay, The Pinnacle Hotel at the Pier. We'll be here until the boat is out of the yard- it's getting checked out and painted for the long ride up to Alaska. But low and behold, we will be up at 5a.m. for a second time this week when we switch back over to Coal Park--where the boat rests until its long journey, as do I, so Goodnight!
Time for bed, but until next time, check out these photos of my hot new ride! This was the first time we had to get up at 5a.m. to bring the boat into the yard for 6a.m. Oh the life of a yachtie!
P.s. Sorry the pictures are blurred, but I can't give away the name of the boat!
xoxo![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsZbmG_wI6N_4IvwOTuTwIwP4EyyTzQBDBhrkADo1htLfdI9ZpejPadnkbOZIB4ETPA8KvIgPBWPndYGQGTUF9jT2mdEkrWXexIIgHsIu3fxXzC63uOBNFomvbmScbB8TVB27KII_CkrU/s400/boat1.jpg)
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I would just like to start off by saying one thing. I'm. never. late.
I've never been late for anything in my entire life. Dentist appointments, birthday parties, work, school, being a personal taxi driver, you name it, I've been five minutes early for it.
Now that we've got that outta the way, let me start by saying this. My plane was scheduled to take off at 8a.m. on a Sunday morning and arrive in Vancouver at 10a.m. pacific time. What did I do? I read the ticket wrong. I thought that my plane took off at 10a.m.! Yup, it means exactly what you think it means. I. missed. my. flight!
As I'm standing there at the check-in counter, ready to punch the Asian lady (behind the desk) in the face for telling me I've in fact, missed my flight, I stop to think. Think about all those times I'd arrived early to my stupid classes, pointless dentist appointments and meaningless work. And for what? I mean, it's not like the building is going to get up and bloody walk away. If I arrive 10 minutes late, the world won't collapse around me. But, no! I had to be late for a flight. A flight that WILL, in fact, pick up and walk away if you are not on it. A flight that I thought I was arriving my usual hour and a half early for, but was quickly told I had missed it by a mere half an hour. Note to self: Double check, double check, TRIPLE CHECK!
Why was I in a panic? Well besides that obvious "movie-drama-panic-feeling" someone gets when they realized they have missed their flight (which is much like that when you realize you slept threw an alarm clock--only a little more extreme), I was to arrive for my first day of work on Sunday around noon. Because I was suppose to meet with the new crew I would be living on a yacht for, for five months. Great first impression, don't you think? But, no. This time, of all the other times, I decided that today was a good day to be late. But I did make it in time, actually early, for my doctors appointment the next day... you got to love irony.
xoxo
OK - Clearly I'm not a great blogger, but I had to write to tell you something important. But give me a break here, I'm one of the only people left on this planet still on dial-up internet! Not to mention I have a forever changing life like that of Samantha Jones, so a little compassion pleeassee! And perhaps maybe I haven't found my writing niche, so to speak. So hence my annoucement. I am changing my blog into a travel diary. In less then a week I will be boarding a plane to the West Coast, and NO! It's not Cali - i wish, but I can do you one better. I am heading to Vancouver to board a private yacht that i will be working on for at least 4 months that is going ... dun, dun, dun....up the Alaskan coast, around Hawaii and over to New Zealand and Australia. BAM. Take that, Cali. So in light of my new found adventure, I wish to give readers an insiders look at the yachties life of the rich and famous, boat politics and give you a chance to guess where in the world am I --sure, it may sound boring, but I can assure you it will be anything but dual. It's all coming to a computer near you this Monday. Stay tuned. xoxo