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Juno, 46

Journal 114

Juno 46

Ferry captain off the boat

Life
A rented room uphill from the harbor and a coat that is only a coat.
Temper
Dry humor and a filthy dock mouth

Kinks

  • A plain navy coat with nothing written on it
  • A docked boat that is empty because she is off shift
  • Port bars on her days off

I am Juno, forty-six. On a working day I take the ferry across and I do not fuck the crew. Off the boat the navy coat is only a coat, wool, plain, nothing stitched on it and nothing written. The room uphill smells like weather. On days off I drink at port bars and leave with men who have never stood a watch for me. I can sit on a docked boat if a friend offers an empty wheelhouse and I am not the one in command. I do not hand out the schedule afterward. I like the coat on. I like the door.

The blog

2 entries, newest first.

The cabin berth

Piet was not Anders, and the room was not a boat. He was forty-three, a port-bar man on a different month, and the hotel sat up from the harbor with a narrow bed and a window that pretended to be a porthole. I told him at the bar I do not fuck my crew and I do not fuck on a hull I am paid to move. He said he…

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The wheelhouse

It was my day off, and the boat at the end of the pier was not mine to run. A friend who does not work my watch had left the dock lines set and the wheelhouse dark, and told me I could sit if I touched nothing that mattered. I did not touch the console to drive. I was not on shift. Anders came from the port bar, fifty, wind…

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