Amazingly I am back on firm land. The movement of the ocean drifted away like the tide and only the memory of the cold gnarly north Pacific remains. I feel like I returned from war. Our mission was catch fish, and lord be my witness we caught fish. I feel like I went to war because I don't really want to remember, and as a matter of fact I don't even know what to write about.
Is it normal to feel awkward in a public setting? Is it normal to miss it? Is it normal for your body to hurt everywhere? This body of mine f-king sailed the Bering Sea, bore the abuse of insane foremen and obeyed the command of very experienced skippers.
What the hell is an intellectual Swiss born artist and mountaineer doing on such a vessel? I asked myself this everyday. I was after money, stories and the lure of the remotest places on earth. I got the most Buddhist lesson you could get amongst crazed christians. We were like Jesus on steroids and gave the faithful something real to fear.
Bering Sea Fisherman have a saying: Fish, Fight and F#@$k.
I am an adventurist. That is it.