My Occupation Of Steam-Ship Voyages

“The Open Boat” written by Stephen Crane is viewed as one of the most powerful sea stories in the world of literature. This short story is based on a real event that happened in Crane’s life. After doing some research, I found out that Crane was in a shipwreck on a boat headed from Florida to Cuba. This story recounts the real life events that happened in a fiction setting. In the story, Stephen Crane uses strong symbolism to show us themes about what he thinks of life, god and nature.

"Engine...boats...people..." I mumble, in my dreamy yet deranged state, not grasping the meaning of the words. "Engines...boats...people, engines...boats...PEOPLE!" My eyes snapped open as the words falling listlessly out of my mouth made sense. I tried to cry out, but my voice was gone. I hauled myself up and my wound cracked open. I fell down again. This was hopeless, but I couldn't give up yet. I watched as the boat stalled next to my yacht, and it's lights blinked on, scanning the darkening sea for the yacht's owner, me.

Alistair MacLeod’s “The Boat” is a literary success on many levels. His ability to evoke mood, sustain a meaningful theme and a strong setting make this piece particularly impressive.

I landed my two feet out of the cruise boat, Carnival Sensation to the deck heading to a wonderful beautiful place, the Bahamas. I realized that this was going to be the trip of a lifetime. The second I stepped off the cruise boat I could feel the blazing hot sun on my back as I thirst for cool refreshing water. It was hundred degrees and I couldn’t wait for the wonderful refreshing dip at the beach.

“The Open Boat” is short tale of endurance, suffering, and redemption. The story focuses on four interesting sailors on a journey towards survival. They try their best to overcome the adversities of the water and raging storm. Crane focuses on the constant struggle of man’s immobility to control his own life. “The Open Boat” is a nonfictional fiction some call it. It typically is argued as only fiction, but many lean toward its nonfictional quality. Crane wrote the story based off his real life experience of a shipwreck he tragically endured. The Commodore, the name of the ship, was the victim of the waves and Crane just so happened to be one of its friends. He wrote 2 articles based on this tragedy, but “The Open Boat” became the best

Every so often in life we encounter an opportunity to take a shortcut, to circumvent the traditional path, and attempt to reach our goals without the customary planning, patience, and hard work that invariably goes into any worthwhile endeavor. One such opportunity presented itself in the late summer of 2007, when I was hired to deliver the 38-foot Island Packet cutter Guinevere from Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands, to Bradenton, Florida. By then I had over thirty years’ experience as a licensed captain, ocean yacht master, and certified sailing instructor, and so when I was persuaded to take a shortcut through Passage Key Inlet and ran aground, I immediately realized I should, all along, have trusted my training and instincts.

The setting of August Wilson’s Gem of the Ocean is 1904 Pittsburgh. It has been 40 years since the abolition of slavery and the Second Industrial Revolution is alive and well. Between 1870 and 1914 the United States saw an important change in the labor and working-class, technological advancements took production from a handmade to an automated factory setting. The development of manufacturing produced a necessity for numbers of factory laborers. These laborers faced extensive hours, unfortunate working conditions and job insecurity.

Vern was the second caretaker that the Lenihans employed looking after their 1940s cottage during the winter months, opening and closing it in the spring and fall. However, once early in the summer, Theodore Lenihan Sr. wanted to transport a 19’ long inner lake sloop from Parry Sound to Blackstone Lake. The sailboat had already made its way from Cleveland by train. It was hard to see how this could be done quickly and efficiently. However, Vern was chosen as the man who could get it done – he was always the man who could get it done!

Today was weirdly exotic. I was going out to the dock at the crack of dawn to unload our materials from the trip that we took. The dock was cracked and had algae stains everywhere I looked. I saw more and different Hawaiians getting paid to refit our ships because the only reason we are here is because of our ship. As I walked closer to them, I saw that they were actually making a lot from our captain. He was practically bankrupt because he gave most of his money to the Hawaiians. While I observed the Hawaiians, I spotted a beautiful woman with dashing features, but I continued on to refitting the things that I had to refit. I started by unloading the razor sharp

It had been 8 weeks on the vessel when we had been informed that we would be nearing the New York harbor soon, that meant eight weeks without any pyzy or kopytka, my favorite foods. The vessel was fairly clean and was filled with people such as myself and my brother, Jacek, escaping the grasp of Nazi Germany in Poland or the equivalent of so in their countries. On the other hand, some are here seeking greater economic opportunity and religious freedom. My brother and I were the only ones out of my family brave enough to leave our lives behind and venture into America. It wasn’t easy for me to leave everything behind and start anew, I had many friends, family, and prized possessions that I left, not knowing if I would ever see them again. I

I lethargically began to move the oars across the glass of waters of Coleman Lake. The 12ft emerald row boat glides on top of the surface making its way to the opposite side of the lake. I continue rowing observing the breath taking views of this pristine lake, I swivel my head around and focus on these rustic cabins that are scattered around the lake, holding decades of memories with them as they start to sag towards me. I prop my oars up and reach around for the

Most of the men on board these ships were there for a profit. They had been promised exceptional spices and beautiful silks of the Indies that would bring them a generous income. It would be important for me to learn how to make my own profit from the things that I’m skilled at doing. I could learn trades like fishing or to barter to my advantage. The men on the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria were from diverse backgrounds and I could learn something from all of them.

The quiet breeze blew as our ship ported into the wooden dock. It was pitch black, the smog suffocated the stars so the moon was our only light as we exited the boat. We were walking down the hollow metal stairs to then go onto the cobblestone streets.

We stood on the beach watching the ship sail away from us, they refused to take us any further. So there we stood watching, waiting, and praying for the best. It was just us women and children, the men had gone ahead and scouted out the area. We could still just barely see the ship on the horizon, fading into the distance. None of us dared to more for fear of losing sight of it, so we stood there, and did not move until none of us could see it. Then we stood some more, and waited until the men came back saying it was all clear. We all turned around at the same time and didn’t dare look back, our new life had begun, and that meant we were on our own.

It didn’t seem worth it anymore. The whale sharks were nowhere to be seen. Our tour guide had warned us that the whale sharks feeding season in the area was coming to an end and that maybe we wouldn’t be able to see them today. I just didn’t think this would actually happen, a 10 hour journey for what? Suddenly I began to hear splashes of water coming from the side of the boat. A group of dolphins swarmed around the boat; this made me feel a little better. Although the sour taste of lime began to erupt my mouth as I begin to remember what we really travelled out here