Dear Future Sassers
Dear Future Sassers,
Somehow, almost a whole School at Sea has passed since I stepped on the IJmuiden dock. It seems unreal. How little I did in these past months, how much in those magical six.
The pain seems to fade away with the summer, but just like an unexpectedly warm autumn day, it’s always there. Just a few days ago, I was cleaning the toilet at work, and it hit me again. You have no idea how much I would give to be on the ship and clean those toilets.
So, in a little over a month, you’re off.
There is much you will discover along the way, and more that you cannot truly understand before you’ve lived it. But, some things can be good to know before you go. Let’s get started, shall we?
Take a next level lice comb. Please. Do it for me.
You see, in my year, even though it was the 6th go, SaS failed to provide proper combs and treatment – and I had no idea we’d get them, even though they did. And we suffered. I perhaps most of all. So get one of those sturdy metal combs and bring plenty of your own treatment – couldn’t find a good comb in the Caribbean, treatments tend to be in pharmacies. As soon as the lice come (start checking in Amsterdam, and every island after), strike quick and hard.
Take as much food with you as you can. Especially chocolate.
First of all chocolate gets pretty expensive after Tenerife, if they have it at all. So stock up for the whole trip before you leave, or at least until the Azores. I promise you, those who didn’t regretted it deeply. Also, food = power. Second of all it will save you quite some money along the way, with which you can do other fun things. The rest is for you to find out.
(The Spar close to the Tenerife harbour sells €0,50 bars of choc.)
Take music boxes. And aux cables. You won't regret it during watch and cleanings. Oh, and earphone splitters.
Do as much school as you can in the first half. The weather is soft then, and you have loads more time. The second half the ship starts to really shake that booty, and you just wanna enjoy the last weeks fully.
Those anti-slip mats? Don’t wash them on a hot program, and definitely don’t put them in the drier. That’ll make them useless. Want to know something else that makes them useless? A big wave.
(Hang up the kitchen wash by colour and kind. Everyone will know who did it.)
(Give me credits tho.)
Your cabin will stink. At one point you’ll stop smelling it, but anyway it’s a good idea to always have your door or window open, or both. And if the window is closed, water will condensate on it, and soak the bed beneath it, which is always fun. Then again, a wave could come in in the middle of the night too. Or a flying fish.
Don’t take clothes you really like. Stuff like losing and staining clothes happens daily.
I don’t know if the Thalassa washing machine is also an electrocuting bitch, but if she is, be creative.
(We found a solution, but I have a sadistic mind.)
If they promise more navigation lessons during the crossing but you get none in the Caribbean *cough cough*? Kick their asses for me. You’re on a ship for six months, better learn the shit. My year really could have learnt way more.
I made 19.955 photos/videos during SaS. You might too. Keep them organised from the beginning to save heaps of work (PlayMemoriesHome sorts them by date automatically).
Take tons of movies on hard drives for movie nights and when you secretly watch a movie alone even though that’s not allowed (shock horror).
Yes, you can take an extra dress. Or whatever. Just know that you’re gonna buy stuff along the way and the space is very limited. It all just ends up in your bed.
Keep a diary. You won’t regret it. You will regret not writing down how that waterfall was or what deep conversation you just had. The funny moments. The emotional. The tiring. The confusing. The sneaky. Often you’ll just want to sleep or watch a movie, but just take ten minutes to write it down. Then you’ll have something to cry over at the end.
During free time, you’ll be tempted by your phone. Of course, find wifi, call home, post a fab pic here and there. But beware. Don’t spend too much time on your phone, you have years and years for that, but only six months of SaS.
Try not to puke in the sinks. The toilet is within less than a metre. Overboard is better.
Talking about puking, don’t hold it in. You’ll feel way better afterwards. Feeling better probably won’t last that long, but no worries, it’s done for most within 24h. Oh, and eat. Puking nothing feels horrible. And drink enough to replace the water you’re losing.
Are you the lucky fucker that never get seasick? Have fun cooking for everyone.
Our puking record is 21 (one person, in one watch). Can you beat us?
If your watermaker water tastes disgusting, no worries, you’ll get used to it. Gewoon door de zure appel heenbijten.
I know you’re gonna drink, gonna smoke. They know you are. Just don’t get caught. (I did (not directly but long story), and we go to do the Cuba cleaning with 4 people. I slept one hour that night.) If you do, make sure you’re with several people – the chance they’ll send loads home is way smaller. But you don’t have that from me, and I can’t guarantee it will work.
When you’re at the rastafari in Dominica, send them last/this/my year’s love. And give Israel greetings from India (that’s me, haha so funny both countries), although he probably doesn’t remember me. Say I’m the girl that asked him last year, and that I still really appreciate it.
Ask them to show you their plantation. It’s fucking cool, even if you’re not into it.
Swim while you still can – so before Cuba. From then, it’s too cold and/or you’re in harbours. So swim, every school brake on anchor, every wind drop in the middle of the ocean. And jump from that highest ladder. If you don’t you’ll probably regret it.
Talking about regrets, here comes my last, and most important point.
Enjoy it while it’s there. Please.
Yes, you’ll feel miserable when you’re seasick and it’s cold but you have watch. Yes, the ship will stink of that broken balsamico for days on end. Yes, the toilets are always dirty and your cabin too and the ship too, and yes, you’re the filthiest of them all.
But please enjoy those ice-cold watches and weeks of no showers and long kitchen duties where the sink gets blocked. Love the salt on your skin and the waves that sweep everything from the table in one go, the Cuba cleaning and those each Sunday. Because in the moment some of these things might feel like shit but when it’s all over you’ll long back to cleaning the salon at one thirty in the morning and cutting trash with your bare hands as the sun goes down.
Because it’s all so damn worth it.
School at Sea has many flaws, in organisation and so much more, but in a way it has taught me a lesson about love; yes, that is what I will now tell the people who ask me what I learned from it. Because however much it hurts at the end, however hard it could be along the road, it was all worth it. A hundred times over. The journey is that beautiful.
To be honest, I envy you deeply. I wish it was me boarding my new home. That first week still feels like yesterday. The thought of it being only a memory, from almost a year ago, is almost unbearable. I guess that’s why I’m planning my next sailing adventure already.
So, dear sassers of 17/18, and all the years to come,
Have a great fucking time.
Ps. Don’t throw laptops overboard. Wasn’t received well in the year before mine.
Pps. I do wonder what stories you’ll tell of our year.
Ppps. Have fun during anchor watch. You’ll understand what I mean.
Pppps. You don’t get to have a freezer on the poop deck to have private moments behind (the iconic spot), but I’m sure you’ll find something on the Thalassa. She’s a nice ship – with more to clean, so have fun. Blasting music through the speakers helps.