By: Shivam Pathak
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my experiences at sea. I would describe my journey as a sinusoidal wave, full of ups and downs. In many ways, it resembled a ship’s own voyage—sailing through storms and rough weather but never stopping until it reaches its destination.
I am the first-generation sailor in my family. As soon as I boarded my flight to Kolkata (where my ship had arrived in India), I felt a familiar emotion—the same one I experienced on my first day of school when I had to leave my parents behind. But that separation was only for six hours; this time, it would be six months. At that moment, I questioned whether I had made the right choice.
I had never been on a ship with 29 strangers, all senior to me in either experience or rank. But one thing life had already taught me was never to give up. When I boarded the vessel, the crew seemed welcoming. My first day was all about figuring things out. Someone advised me to call my family, as we would lose network once the ship sailed. As we left the shore, I watched my mobile network disappear, bar by bar.
The first shock came when I stepped into the engine room—I had never imagined it could be so hot and dirty. But the Almighty was watching over me, and the crew was incredibly supportive in guiding me. Slowly, I started adapting to life at sea, learning the rules, which were very different from those on land. It took immense hard work to be a marine engineer, and I soon realized that every dollar a seafarer earns is well deserved.
Days passed, and I became more comfortable. I made friends, but my closest companion turned out to be the steward. After work, we would watch movies or web series, chit-chat, and hit the gym together. Sundays were the best—we cooked meals together, sharing recipes and traditions from different nationalities. This cultural exchange deepened our mutual respect.
Not every day was smooth sailing. The Atlantic Ocean tested us with its might, reminding me that life, much like the sea, has its crests and troughs. Crew changes happened frequently—almost every month—so I constantly had to bid farewell to friends while welcoming new faces. The loneliness hit hardest in my cabin, where there was no family to greet me at the end of the day. But as I watched the sun slowly sink into the horizon, I felt grateful to the Almighty for giving me the opportunity to witness such breathtaking beauty.
As months passed, life at sea became my new normal. The ship felt like home, the ocean my reality, and land something rare and distant.
One of the most exciting moments came when we sailed toward the USA—a country I had never visited before. The idea of setting foot there ignited a flame of excitement in me. I would be the first in my family to visit the States! But life at sea comes with its share of disappointments. The USCG denied my shore leave since it was my first time in the country. While the entire crew went ashore, I was left behind. It felt unfair, and I was devastated. My Chief Engineer tried to console me, joking, “At least you saved money!”—but at that moment, I wasn’t convinced.
Two months later, we returned to the USA—this time to Houston. I was granted shore leave! With excitement, I went out with my friends, shopped for my family, indulged in junk food, and brought back souvenirs. That day, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. A sailor’s shore leave is the moment he truly appreciates his profession—because even with money, most people wouldn’t dream of visiting such remote yet beautiful places.
The last months on board were tough. Our Chief Engineer changed, and he always kept a close eye on me. He could never tolerate seeing me idle, constantly assigning me tasks—even the ones I disliked. I spent days mopping, painting, and cleaning, which felt frustrating, especially so close to the end of my contract. I felt my time was being wasted on menial tasks instead of learning technical skills. But in hindsight, I was learning something even more valuable: Perseverance. I controlled my frustration and did what was expected of me.
One of the most enjoyable moments in my final months was setting up a makeshift pool on deck. Repairing and preparing it was a fun project that brought the crew together. Jumping into that inflatable pool every evening after work was our reward—a moment of pure relaxation.
As my contract neared its end, I desperately hoped to sign off from the USA. But rumors spread that it might not happen because arranging a solo sign-off was expensive. I had already spent 6.5 months at sea and longed to go home. I started crossing out days on my calendar, planning a big surprise for my family—I told them my contract would end next month, keeping my real sign-off a secret.
Finally, two days before my departure, my tickets arrived. It was going to be my first international flight, adding to my excitement. Then came the moment I had been waiting for—standing on deck when the Captain’s voice echoed through the radio:
“Cadet, the agent has come to pick you up.”
I had never felt this level of excitement. I grabbed my luggage, bid farewell to my shipmates, and stepped onto the gangway. This is the best feeling for a sailor—going home.
Back in Mumbai, my family was completely shocked and overjoyed. That evening, as I sat on my sofa, sipping chai and watching the sunset, I smiled to myself.
I had seen this same sunset at sea. Now, I was watching it on land.
With folded hands, I thanked the Almighty.
Thank you for this life.
