Here I am. Swaying side to side. On to my next big excursion.
I have a fifth of vodka in one hand and a beer in the other. I’m wearing my favorite crocheted rainbow crop top. It ties around the neck and frames my breasts perfectly. I don’t need a bra because I haven’t had any children yet and my breasts are still small and perky. My stomach is flat as a board, my curls are blowing in the wind and I have not a care in the world. I’m sitting at the front of the boat with my friend Parker. He’s dutch, has brown puppy eyes, shaggy hair and a huge dick. He has these marks on his two front teeth from when he wore braces. I also have stains on my front teeth from when I was younger. One dentist said it was from fluoride poisoning, another said it may have been from the antibiotics I may have taken as a kid. I will never know. I love the stains on my front teeth and I love that Parker has marks on his front teeth. Already we have something in common. Not only do our teeth match but Parker also likes to drink and have sex with strangers. So there we are, two late 20 something year olds sitting on a rickety boat on our way to our next adventure across the sea to Gili Trawangan aka Gili T. Gili T is one of three tiny islands located off of Lombok in Indonesia. They’re known for their white sand beaches, their coral reefs just offshore and their nightlife. I had a keen sense of smell when it comes to partying. I could smell it from miles and miles away. It was like a magnet to my body. The smell of alcohol, the promise of meaningless sex, the not remembering and the numbness that I so craved was all I needed to feel alive. I did not know how to interact with the world around me unless I was under some sort of spell, some form of substance, to make me funnier, happier, and more myself than I was ever capable of being sober. I needed the high. I needed alcohol to function in a world that did not want me. I needed something to make me feel like I knew myself. It became who I was. The party girl. The slut. The “free spirit”. The girl with the curls and a big goofy grin plastered on her face, ready to take shots of anything, fuck anyone she wants and dance the fucking night away. So there I was. On to my next big adventure. This was it. I had a great feeling about this island. This was where I was going to find myself I decided. I felt this magnetic pull, pulling me to this little tiny island in the middle of the Bali sea.
I’m standing on a dock with my huge backpack strapped to my back and my smaller Kipling backpack hanging from my front like a little newborn strapped to it’s mamas belly containing all of my most important items. My passport, money, credit cards, cigarettes, and my fifth of vodka. You know, the important stuff. I didn’t want to set any of my bags on the ground because I wanted to be ready to jump on the next boat to take us to Gili T. Once the boat from Lombok to Gili T docks and all the passengers are let off, then it’s the next round of travelers turn to jump on as quick as you can, unload your bags into the storage space down below then try and find a seat you can comfortably sit in for the next couple hours. While standing and waiting for the next boat to dock, I remembered I hadn’t showered in a couple days. I lift up my arm to smell my armpit and I smell okay. I had given myself a wet wipe shower earlier that morning and I guess it did the trick. For whatever reason, maybe it was the humid weather, I never smelled when I was traveling around Southeast Asia. I think I would sweat so much from the humidity that my body was always detoxing. That’s my theory. Definitely no science backed by what I just said.
The boat is finally here. My friends and I are patiently waiting for the other backpackers and tourists to get off the boat. I notice they all seem a little shaken and have a “deer in the headlights” look on their faces. I didn’t think much about it. I just wanted them to move faster so I could get on the boat and sit my butt in a chair and open my little bottle of vodka and start working on my high. A young boy yells something in Indonesian and starts waving for us to come on board. I hand my bag to the young boy and he throws it under the boat with the rest of the bags. He reaches for my hand to help me on the boat and looks down at my feet and notices I’m not wearing any shoes. He smiles at me and I notice he’s not wearing any shoes. I nod and smile back at him. I hated wearing shoes when traveling around the islands of Indonesia and Thailand. There was no need for them. What I liked about not wearing any shoes was it forced me to pay attention to where I was walking. It felt amazing being able to touch all of these foreigns lands with the bottoms of my feet. I felt so connected to the ground that I walked on. I didn’t realize how much I hated shoes until I went days on end without any. Shoes made my feet feel so constrained, so not free. I wanted to feel light and free in my steps, just like I wanted to feel in my life. So when my bare feet stepped onto the boat, I could feel the boat underneath me. I could feel it floating and swaying side to side. Not only in my body, but in the soles of my feet. The very things that connect me to whatever it is I’m standing on.
I find a comfortable seat in the cabin of the boat. There are about six rows of plastic seats behind me. I’m getting comfortable by propping my feet on the seat next to me waiting for my friends to appear. I’m so excited that I need something to calm me down. I pull out my fifth of vodka and take a sip. Then another just to make sure I got enough. Finally my friends make it inside and Parker takes a seat next to me. I offer him some Vodka. He takes a sip and hands it back. He coughs a little and says, “I don’t know how you can drink that straight.” “It takes practice Parker..It takes practice,” I said jokingly. Parker pulls out a beer and we clank our bottles together. “Here’s to our next great adventure,” as I wink at Parker. He grins and puts his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder. Right then the engine to the boat starts. My heart leapt. I felt like a little kid going to Disneyland for the first time. I couldn’t rest, I couldn’t sit still. I want to be there, I want to be there now.
Not even ten minutes into our crossing the sea, I needed a cigarette.
I got up and walked to the back of the boat where there was a deck next to the bathroom. I noticed one of the workers smoking a cigarette. I looked at him and asked to use his lighter. It took me a few moments to get my cigarette lit because of all the wind from being on a speeding boat. He smiles at me. I smile back. I look out at the ocean and see Lombok disappearing into the distance. The thrill of being in a different country on a boat, watching all the land around me disappear was such an amazing feeling. It was in that moment that I felt completely and utterly free. I had no worries. No kids, no boyfriend and no job. Just me, this boat, this cigarette and nothingness all around me. “Beautiful isn’t it?” snapping me out of my daydream. “It sure is,” I reply. “You have a beautiful smile,” the man says in an unthreatening way. “Thank you,” I reply. “We may hit some choppy water soon.” “How choppy?” I ask feeling a little nervous. “You should go back inside after you finish your cigarette and find a seat.” “Okay then..” I think to myself. His words felt a little ominous, but I brushed it off not thinking twice about it. I finish my cigarette and make my way back inside next to Parker. He’s fiddling on his phone with one hand and has his half empty beer in the other. “You haven’t finished your beer yet?!” I say playfully while pushing his shoulder in a flirty way. “I was waiting for you,” he says with a smirk. I didn’t feel anything from the two sips of vodka I drank earlier, so I pull out the vodka again and this time I make sure to take a huge gulp. I blow out not wanting to taste the vodka. I learned this trick from another “professional drinker” at a dive bar. He was an older gentleman with a big white beard and a red face. He bought me a shot of vodka and told me to blow out after I took the shot. He promised I wouldn’t taste the alcohol so much if I did that. Boy was he right. I used that trick for many years after and taught others along the way. Anyway, back to the boat. I only had lukewarm water to chase the room temperature vodka with. So I blew out and then took a sip of water. “At least I’m staying hydrated,” I thought to myself. But there it is. That warm fuzzy feeling I was looking for. I used to call it “getting normal”. “Getting normal” was the feeling I’d get after the first one or two shots of alcohol. Because that was my normal. There was no sober me. I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t even know she existed. So I was finally feeling “normal” when the boat hits a huge wave. BOOM! Everyone sitting inside the cabin gasps. “Okay this is what that guy smoking a cigarette was talking about.” I sit deep in my chair and hold onto Parkers arm. Parker grounded me. While traveling around with him for a few weeks, he was able to be my voice of reason when I was being unreasonable. I liked that about him. He was very practical but also a ton of fun.
There are little windows in the cabin of the boat. You could see the vast blue ocean outside looking all, never ending. BOOM! Another wave hits the boat and people are starting to get sea sick and some are starting to panic. A gentleman who works on the boat starts passing out brown paper bags to all the people getting sick. The boat is now starting to rock back and forth like it’s a seesaw going in a big circle. I look out the windows of the cabin and the ocean is literally vertical. It feels like I’m on a roller coaster slowly making its way up to the very top of the drop, right before it plunges hundreds of feet down. “Holy shit these are some serious waves.” It’s so loud in the cabin that I can hardly hear the people around me vomiting and crying. The woman next to me is curled up in a ball with a brown paper bag in her hand. She looks like she is on her deathbed. She is a tiny white lady with blond hair. Her face has a hint of green color in it from the sea sickness. Her husband is this beefy looking American wearing a hat that has a bald eagle on it. He’s sitting right next to a window and one of the exists of the cabin. He doesn’t seem too concerned about his wife's well being. He seems more preoccupied with what was going on outside. Another passenger in the cabin pulls out some essential oils and brings it to the woman sitting next to me. He tells her that it will help with the nausea. She’s so sick she can’t even say thank you. She just looks at him and tries to smile. She’s now holding onto this little container of essential oil like her life depended on it. BOOM! Another wave sends us shooting into the air. I look out the window again and notice the horizon is vertical. “Holy shit dude.. This is actually getting pretty serious,” I think to myself. The woman next to me laid her head on my shoulder. She’s shaking and still sniffing the essential oil every few seconds. I decided if I was in her position I would want someone to comfort me. So I start stroking her hair like my mom would stroke my hair when I was sick. I could feel her relaxing into my shoulder. “You’re going to be okay,” I try to assure her. BOOM ...BOOM ...BOOM! The waves are now coming much quicker and it now feels like we’re on a horse that’s trying to buck us off of it. The little lady with her head on my shoulder is now grabbing onto my arm like a lost little kid. I again start stroking her head and rubbing her shoulder telling her we’re almost there and to hold on for a little longer.
I’m now gripping Parkers hand really tight. He tells me I’m hurting him. “Oh sorry. I’m just feeling a little scared.” Now it’s Parkers turn to assure me that we’re almost there and that we’re going to make it safely. BOOM...BOOM...BOOM! The waves just keep coming. My mind starts racing. “The ocean is so fucking unforgiving. It doesn’t give a fuck about us. It’ll swallow us whole and not think twice about it.” My heart starts to beat faster and my head is starting to hurt. I let go of Parkers hand and reach for my bag underneath my chair that contains all of my essentials. “I need some fucking vodka. Now.” I quickly unscrew the cap, the woman resting on my shoulder hardly notices I’m about to chug a fifth of vodka. I take a few huge gulps, one right after the other, blowing out when I finally take my mouth off the bottle. “If this is my last day on earth, I might as well be drunk for the end.” Just when I didn’t think things could get any worse, remember the big white American husband of the woman laying her head on my shoulder? Well, the exist door of the cabin he was sitting next to bursts open and water starts pouring in. I mean there is water everywhere within seconds of it opening. The woman lying on my shoulder lifts her head a couple inches and sees the water rushing in and tears start rolling down her face. She is now sobbing into my shoulder. It’s so loud in the cabin I can hardly hear myself think. I start yelling that the door was open and we needed to stop. Yeah.. I really thought we should stop in the middle of the ocean with waves knocking us side to side. I can hear the woman on my shoulder talking. I thought she was trying to talk to me, but then I realized she was praying. She was probably praying to all the people she loved and saying her goodbyes. I have copious amounts of vodka coursing through my veins so I’m not thinking much of anything. I’m just watching gallons of water rush into the cabin of the boat. Soaking me and everyone else around.
Just then, the big American man with the eagle on his hat, gets up from his seat and like a viking he grabs a hold of the open door with both his hands and grounds his feet into the floor as best he could and he pushes the door closed and locks it, all while being on the craziest roller coaster of our lives. The entire cabin starts cheering. I’m clapping, hooting and hollering. I give him a thumbs up and someone reaches over and gave him a hug. His cheeks turned bright red. I looked at him and finally saw the appeal. At first I thought he was this cold hearted white guy not comforting his wife. Now he’s this big strong viking who just saved all of our asses from drowning. His wife peels herself off of me and is now laying her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and pulled her in close. I felt like I just watched someone's marriage repair itself in that moment. One minute they couldn’t be bothered with each other's presence, then the next, they are saving people's lives and holding each other tight. “Aww…” BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I’m quickly knocked out of my soap opera fantasy and reminded that I am here in this very volatile situation. I look at Parker, “Dude are we almost there?” He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders. I look at the bottle of vodka in my hand and see that it is almost finished. I made the executive decision to finish it. Just as that last stream of lukewarm cheap vodka makes its way down my throat and into my stomach, I hear someone say, “I see land!” Thank god. Just then the ocean starts to calm and the booms and bangs start to happen less frequently. The woman next to me picks herself off of her husband and looks out the window. The horizon is finally horizontal and everyone is starting to smile again. The woman is still holding onto the essential oils and sniffing them every few seconds. She looks at me and gives me a big smile and mouths “Thank you.” I smile back at her. The big white American gives his wife a big hug and kiss and they’re now embracing each other like they just made it through hell and back. I look at Parker and give him a big hug and kiss on the cheek. He wipes my spit off of his face and laughs. We’re all a bit shaken up, but we know we made it. The adrenaline rush is only feeding into my excitement for this next great adventure on Gili T.
We approach a little island lined with white sand beaches. I run into the man I had smoked a cigarette with in the beginning of our boat trip. He asks me if I got sick. I said no. He then goes on to tell me that the captain's seat broke off its hinges and four men had to hold the captain's chair in place while he maneuvered through all the crashing waves. The boat pulls up to dock next to a small wooden pier. I step off of the boat onto the pier and have never been so happy so have my feet touch land before. I turn around and take a look at the boat I had just spent a couple hours on and notice just how rickety it actually was. It’s painted a light blue and blends into the sky. The paint is chipping everywhere and I see a few men up top trying to fix the captain's chair. Everyone is moving quickly trying to get off the boat that almost killed them. All the passengers are now wearing the “deer in headlights look” like the people before us. I warned the next crowd of backpackers that the water was very choppy and to be prepared for a wild ride. They all smirk and look a little dazed and confused. They warned me about all the fun I was about to have on Gili T. My heart skipped a beat anticipating all the partying I’ll be doing the next few days. The young boy working on the boat with no shoes was now unloading all of our backpacks. He passed them to another man standing on the wooden pier. He threw them all in a pile and started loading the next victims bags into the boat like nothing had happened on the way here. He’s probably used to the waves crashing around him. He does this everyday. Probably many times a day. What felt like the end of the world to me was probably just another choppy day at sea for him and we were in no real danger, or maybe we were.
I find my bag underneath all the other bags piled on top of it. I pick it up, strap it onto my back along with my Kipling backpack containing all of my essentials and I remember that all of my vodka is gone. Anxiety starts to set in. I need to replenish my liquid courage before I do anything. At the end of the wooden pier there are locals lined along the beach trying to get you to come stay at their hostel or hotel. I walk past them with wobbly legs, smiling and politely declining their offers. I can’t make any decisions until I have another bottle in my hand. So I find the nearest liquor store which wasn’t even 30 feet away. I walk inside and purchase a bottle of cheap vodka and luke warm water to chase it down. My friends and I are standing in a circle trying to process the wild ride we had just experienced. I place my bags on the ground and take a sip of my vodka and I tell my friends that I’ll go look for a place for us to stay. I start making my way down the main road of Gili T and I am approached by an adorable Indonesian man. He has one of the best smiles I have ever seen. He’s wearing a tank top, comfy shorts and sandals. He walks me into his space and it’s perfect. There are about ten little rooms. Some are filled with bunk beds and others are private rooms with queen size beds. I ask him if he has beer for sale. He hands me one and says it’s free of charge. He’s officially won my heart. I noticed a group of young guys sitting to my right playing card games and drinking beer. I go down the checklist in my head: Close to the main road, check. Plenty of space for all of us to stay, check. Beer for sale, check. Young hot guys, check. “We’ll take it,” I tell the man with the perfect smile.
To be continued….
