Been there Done that PART 1

I tripped on the gangway catching myself a moment before the captain turned around. I was pretty sure I just stumbled upon my dream job.  I was the newest crew member of a giant yacht, one hundred and forty feet of pure excess floating in the harbor of Nassau Bahamas.  The name of the private yacht read in big black letters across the stern Been there Done that.

Maybe it was over exposure as a child to the Disneyland ride “Pirates of the Caribbean” or maybe I connected too much to Jay Gatsby getting his start by climbing aboard a yacht on lake Superior.  Whatever the reason I took it upon myself to walk the docks of the massive resort named Atlantis which is located on Paradise Island, a tiny island that is connected to the island of Nassau by a long bridge.

The Atlantis marina is more of a watering-hole for the 1%.  The place is loaded with motorized McMansions ranging from 70 to 200 feet in length.  I will admit I knew very little about the yachting world and even less about how to be a deckhand but hell, like Woody Allen says, "Ninety percent of life is just showing up."

Making my way along the dock I watched with envy as deckhands prepped for another day in paradise. It seemed to me a great way to get paid while traveling the world (in style). I scanned for unsuspecting captains as a warm morning sun breached the horizon.

“Are you the Captain?” I yelled up to nothing more than a phantom passing high up on a large yacht.

A voice yelled back “no, what da' ya’ want?” His tone suggested that I wasn't the first person to ask him that question.

“Wondering if you need another deckhand?” Keep it short I thought.

“Well…” trailing off as though an opportunity danced on the tip of his tongue.

“What are you doing tonight?” he continued

“Whatever you need done.” I said confidently

“That’s the right answer.” Now in full sight, leaning over the second floor balcony, he was late 20's, tan, and outfitted in a white short-sleeved collared shirt. Embroidered on the left chest was the name of the yacht.

“Let me get the captain, we may need some help tonight with our dinner party.” He ducked inside.

“What’s your name?” a man different from the last one came rolling out of the 1st floor.

“Brad Myers” I blurted out.

“Where you from?”

“Canada”

“Yeah, well, we’re having a dinner party for 16 people tonight and might need some help at the bar, you ever worked around a bar before?” 

“I spent the last year in San Francisco and did some bartending for a catering company, I’d be happy to help out” I failed to mentioned that I failed miserably at tending bar. 

“Ok, well... yeah, why don’t you come by around 3 today and help set up.”

“Great, 3, great” I could sense the word great wanting to spill from my mouth 20 more times but I managed to stop at two.

Without knowing what else to say, I turned to walk away from the captain.

Just then it hit me. What the hell do I wear? Turning around on my second step-

“What should I wear?” I said with slight hesitation while gesturing to my current choice of clothes.

“Ya’ got kakis?”

“Yeah!”

“Wear those and we’ll get you a shirt.”

“Great!” I shouted, letting another great slip out.

I turned and walked away, trying to keep my body from breaking into unbridled excitement I discreetly clenched my fist. Just like that, I landed a job.