Set an open course...

The last few weeks have been a bit chaotic here in South Korea and I've gotten lax on my blog posting.  I have just had a bunch of things happening at the same time.  Since getting back from a sailing trip at the end of August, I've had one depressing thing after another happen.  I got a pretty bad sinus infection (first time I've been sick since leaving the country); I've had a student tell me that I don't belong in his country and that I'm stupid because I can't speak Korean.  I was told by another student that Koreans are the only pure bred race left in the world and they are superior because of this fact.  (This particular student was not being mean, she was just making a chilling statement of what she thought was fact, an aside that she believed to be a truth so obvious that it didn't require any other sort of explanation.)  In other racist news, I also had an entire class of 10 year old kids answer "Obama" when I turned over the animal flash card of a monkey.  Then, on a more financial note, I was the only teacher at my school that did not receive their paycheck before the 4 day Chuseok Holiday weekend that just ended.  The explanation given to me was that the other teachers where traveling to be with their families for this Korean version of Thanksgiving.  My check's now four days late and I'm rubbing two nickels together to try to make a dime.  Needless to say, it's been a rough couple of weeks.  Since this isn't a good place for my mind to linger, I figure now's a perfect time to write about the sailing trip that has become:

"The Weekend by Which All Others Will be Compared."

There's something about being on a boat.  I love the smells, the sounds, the freedom.  A house boat docked in a cove of Lake Mead or a speed boat pulling me through the goose shit of Southern Illinois... each of them have their own type of magic for me.  Given a choice on a place to hide from the world, I'll choose open water and an open bottle every time.  Salty air and the sound of waves just make a drink taste right.  It's like Grandma's spaghetti recipe that no one else can make, the sprinkle of this and pinch of that which takes a cocktail and turns it into a Cezanne.  Music, internal or otherwise, also seems to sound a bit better with the gentle wake of a boat beneath your feet, lulling you side to side and forcing you to dance.  Add a group of friends to that music and that tasty beverage and nothing else compares.  I'm just a different person when water's around.  You can feed me after midnight, but the water can still make the gremlins come out.  My demons look a little more like Puck and less like Stripe, but both can be a bit dangerous at the right time of night.  

The four hour bus ride to the marina started a little after 1am on Friday night after a long day of work.  My last class ends at 9pm and, with the excitement of the impending trip, sleep wasn't a viable option.  Lack of actual shuteye would become a major theme as the weekend progressed.  Of the thirty or so people on the bus ride over, I knew a total of three people, two from a previous trip and the tour guide himself.  It was obvious from the beginning that a large number from the trip knew each other well and that was intimidating at the start.  It didn't last for any amount of time, though.  To be perfectly honest, I was pretty hammer-drunk and I was having more than a few issues at the time.  My main issue would also become a bit of a theme over the weekend:  my pants would not stay up.  I was wearing a pair of shorts that had started the night in a bit of a loose-state and I was without a belt.  The use of my hands were, of course, being reserved for the cocktail I was currently drinking and the cocktail in which I planned to help wash down the first.  Factor in a psychotic bus driver and my pants fell off... regularly.  I have lost some weight since arriving here in May, but I haven't lost anywhere near enough for it to be this big of a problem.  After watching the sunrise over the coast and having a quick breakfast, I was able to find a "belt" to get me through.  (The "belt" was actually a bright lime green dog leash that I picked up at a little corner market... you can laugh now.)

In retrospect, I probably should have skipped the bus booze and the sunrise hike.  The lack of sleep would put an acid-trip-surreal-feel to the rest of the weekend.  It just wasn't in the cards at this time, though.  When we first got on the boat, we each loaded our bags into cabins that would never be used and toured the ship itself.  I don't have exact measurements, but I was immediately impressed with the size.  I had been a little curious how tight the quarters were going to be for thirty people, but it was never an issue.  Once the boat got away from the marina, the real fun began.


I need to take a second and give credit to the large group of friends that made up the majority of our sailing trip.  At least a few of them had taken the trip several times and were well prepared for the voyage.  The biggest contribution, in my opinion, was a selection of CD's made by one of the guys in the group.  Since he had been on this boat before, he knew that the mp3 players that most people were carrying weren't compatible with the stereo system built into the ship.  So, he took the time to make an eclectic mix of feelgood boat drink music.  This is the same guy who, along with his girlfriend, put together a massive amount of bloody marys and marinated skewers to grill.  These discs set the mood for the entire trip and, if nothing else, it gives some credence to his taste in music.  (I figure this justifies a small plug for his music blog... it can be found here.  He has download links at the bottom of each of his entries.  Look for the ((((0)))) symbol at the bottom of each link.) 

In the crow's nest...

After an hour or two of sailing, the captain turned off the boat and we were able to jump from the rigging and swim for a while.  I don't know the exact height from which we were jumping, but it was enough to hurt when you hit the water.  We walked out from the mast on the beam just below the crow's nest  and jumped in feet first, very fun, but also a bit painful.  There are many, many more pictures on Facebook of the entire trip. 


After the quick swim and a dockside delivery of 3 or 4 cases of Makgeoli, we continued the trip on to the Sado Isles.  The isles themselves supposedly have dinosaur fossils in several different places, but I never saw them.  There was a map showing the way, but my mind was in a different place at that time.  After a 2 or 3 mile paved walk, we came to a small inlet with a beach that we would fill up the rest of the daylight on Saturday.  We tossed a frisbee on the beach and then moved it into the water.  It was about this time that the pants issue came back around.... this time was completely my fault, though, no lack of belt to blame.  Please keep in mind that we have been drinking consistently for the last 18 or 20 hours at this time.  I caught a small 5 or 10 minute nap on the breakfast room floor, but that was the only sleep I had received since waking at 9am on Friday morning... and it's around 6pm on Saturday night at this point.  Whatever the reason, I decided I wanted to skinny dip in the ocean.  Now, this wasn't a Frank the Tank moment; I wasn't trying to talk anyone into joining me.  It just sounded like a good idea to me at the time.  All was well and good.  I was holding my swimming trunks and we were still tossing the frisbee when I suddenly lost my pants in the current.  One minute they were there and the next they were completely gone.  I had to borrow a towel and try to walk that same hike back to the boat, sans pants.  The old Korean ladies along the way thought it was hilarious as our tour guide was all too happy to explain what had happened.  Not my finest moment.  To top it off, I had accidentally left my Ray Bans on a rock near the beach.  By the time, I had made it back, the tide came up and the sunglasses joined my pants in the great kingdom beneath the sea.

The next few hours are a bit hazy, for some reason.  There was some much needed food grilled at some point and a continuous flow of not-so-needed drinks.  There was also a point in the night were another camping group called me and a few others over to their site for some fresh sushi that they had caught earlier in the day.  After the sun was down for the night, the majority of us made our way back to the boat for an evening under the stars with a couple guitars and a few good times.  The party was still going on the cabin roof well into the early hours.  Around 2 or 3 in the morning, someone discovered one of the coolest aspects of the trip.  There was a major bioluminescent show going on in the water every time that the surface was interrupted.  From what I understand, this type of event is fairly rare:  it only happens once or twice a year in certain parts of the world.  Pouring water over the side of the boat made a bright neon reaction in the water at every place that the surface was interrupted.  After being assured that this had nothing to do with the nuclear fallout in Japan, I jumped in the water.  There was an explosion of light as soon as I hit the water.  It was like a thousand glow sticks were attached to my body.  As we swam, small drops of water came off the front of our hands and those ripples would also start to glow.  It was ridiculous.  After a few minutes in the water, it would stop and we'd have to get out and allow the algae (or whatever was causing this particular event) to either recharge or regroup, then we could start it all over again.  This midnight swim and the subsequent rest in wet clothes would probably be a big factor in that sinus infection I mentioned at the beginning of this post. 

After a short half hour or hour nap, I woke up to the first fingers of light as the sky went black to grey.  I tried to sleep more, but it just wasn't going to happen.  I grabbed some morning Makgeoli and headed back to the beach to see if there was any chance that my things had washed ashore when the tide went down... no luck.  Some fresh grilled tuna and fruit met us for breakfast a few hours later and the rest of the day was spent with Bloody Mary's and more boating.  I'd love to go into more details about Sunday, but I was in a slight hallucination mode from lack of sleep by this point.  We got back to Busan fairly late Sunday night and I finally got some much-needed sleep.

I can't imagine being back in the United States and being able to find thirty people that were able to put their lives on hold for a weekend and step off the map for a bit.  You have to be a bit crazy to move to the other side of the world for a job like this one.  I think it just naturally attracts an adventurous soul.  It's hard to get a float trip for 5 or 10 people together back home, a sailing trip for 30 would be close to impossible, I think.  These weekends have made this job and this trip more than just bearable; they've allowed me to ignore or forget all of the downsides.  I miss my family, I miss my friends, but I wouldn't trade weekends like this for anything.