I was twenty-four, I had just finished college and I somehow felt lost in life, like I was simply floating through other people’s expectations of me and their ideas of how my life should be. I decided that I needed to do something to find myself, so I took a summer job on a cargo ship. I had never been on more than a ferry and really didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but the recklessness of being completely unprepared is what excited me and I felt that it was time to shake things up a bit.

As soon as my assignment arrived, I immediately wondered what the hell I had been thinking. I would spend three months at sea with a crew of eight other men. I was leaving behind a summer of parties and friends, as well as my girlfriend, for this? I justified it to myself (and those who asked me) by saying that I needed the money and that I wanted an adventure. In reality though, I just needed a change of perspective.

When I arrived at the harbour, I was immediately struck by the lacklustre of it all. A large portion of it was a ship graveyard full of rusted out cargo ships that had reached their end of life. Seeing them out of the water, their paint faded and their rusted red metal bodies exposed was a far cry from my somewhat romantic image of sailing and life on the sea.

The harbour appeared to be deserted and I finally found something that resembled an office inside of a converted shipping container. A woman there told me where I would find the ship that I would be working on. It wasn’t where she said it would be, but I eventually found it. A long, flat looking ship, sitting relatively high in the water, painted white and dark burgundy with a captain’s bridge towards the rear. I reassured myself that it was seaworthy and made my way to the bridge.

I boarded the ship and called out “hello” as I entered unfamiliar territory. After ten minutes of aimlessly walking around I finally I heard the sound of rattling metal tools and followed the sound to find the captain of the ship doing some maintenance in the engine room. I called to him but he didn’t hear me over the loud hum of the engine, so I just waited until he turned around and then waved, somewhat awkwardly, at him. He waved back, finished up what he was doing and then came up to meet me.

He had been on board the past few days preparing for our journey and told me that most of the crew would be arriving that evening but that we wouldn’t be leaving for at least three days as not all of the cargo had arrived. I was disappointed to hear that we’d be sitting in this harbour, but having “time to do nothing” was one of the things that I had told myself that I wanted.

The ship’s living area consisted of a kitchen and a canteen. The cook was a large, sweaty man who seemed completely disinterested in knowing who I was. My cabin was simple, to say the least — a bunk bed on one side, a small desk and chair on the other and a bathroom at the end, but it was liveable and it was clean.

Most of the other crew members arrived that evening, but a few who had heard about the delay didn’t show up until our departure. We had a few hours work to do preparing and cleaning the cargo area and I spent most of the rest of my time reading in my bunk. One of the other crew members, Johnny, was a year or two older than me and we got on well. This was his third time working on the ship and he showed me the ropes and answered my questions.

The cargo finally arrived and after being loaded I was expecting to hear that we’d be leaving the following morning, but instead we were leaving that night. I hadn’t been briefed on what my actual job was, but Johnny showed me what each of our shifts involved — patrolling the cargo area, maintenance of the cooling system and various other chores. I was really happy that he was there as the rest of the crew members came across as grumpy old men. I rarely interacted with anyone besides Johnny, the captain and the first mate, who was always on the bridge and seemed to never sleep.

After a few weeks I had become used to the rhythm of my shifts. Every day I had four hours on, two hours off and then another four hours on. One of my shifts coincided with one of Johnny’s and hanging out with him became the highlight of my day. We could relate to each other well and I shared my feelings of being dissatisfied with my life, even though on the surface I had everything I believed one needed to be happy. I told him how I was fed up with academic life but that I wasn’t interested in pursuing a career either, how my relationship with my girlfriend had never really reached a deeper level of connection and how I in general didn’t feel like I was living my own life. He didn’t say much but it felt good to have someone who was disconnected from my past listen while I shared all of this.

After around eight weeks the monotony of life on the ship really started setting in. The ocean was vast and the sunsets and night skies were amazing, but I was missing social and physical contact. On one day that I was feeling quite down, I was chatting with Johnny and telling him that while being out at sea felt like it was doing me good, I also felt more lost than ever in terms of what I wanted in life. After a long pause, he asked me if I had met Jorge, one of the other crew members. I thought I had met all of the other men on the ship, but when he described him and told me that he worked the night shift, I realised I had not yet seen nor met him.

I asked why, and Johnny became a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden, as if he had regretted saying anything. When I nudged him on it, he told me that the first time he was on this ship he had felt a lot like I did and that Jorge had helped him. He didn’t go into any more detail, but said that if I wanted to, I could ask Jorge to help me find my orientation again. I didn’t really understand but sensed that he would not tell me more.

A few days went by before I finally built up the courage to seek Jorge out. I ventured into the canteen several times after my last shift, hoping to find him there. I eventually did and waited for the coast to clear before approaching him and introducing myself. At first he seemed polite though somewhat disinterested. After a somewhat awkward exchange, I decided to cut to the chase and mentioned that Johnny had told me that perhaps he could help me. He asked what I wanted help with and I told him, in not too many words, about feeling confused and unmotivated by life. He confirmed that he might indeed be able to help and that I should come to his cabin the following day after my last shift. He told me to eat a light dinner and to shower thoroughly beforehand. I found his instructions and choice of words a bit strange but agreed, thanked him and left.

That night I lay awake in bed, wondering what was awaiting me. All manner of possibilities were racing through my mind and I could do nothing to still my thoughts. It had always been hard for me to let go of control but I told myself that this entire journey was a learning experience in letting go and welcoming the unknown. The thoughts kept coming though and I didn’t sleep much that night.

The next day was the same old routine as I had had since being on the ship, which had become very familiar and monotonous. After my second shift I went back to my cabin and showered as I always did. As I was stepping out of the shower to dry myself, I suddenly remembered about my arrangement with Jorge and what he had told me. I got back in the shower and washed myself again, applying soap to my entire body and scrubbing all over with my fingers. I didn’t know what I was preparing myself for, I was just following instructions.

I stepped out of my cabin and nervously walked towards the rear area where Jorge’s cabin was. I was about to approach his door when suddenly I became unsure about which cabin was his. Was it the one on the left or the right, and what would happen if I was to knock on the wrong cabin door? I started coming up with feasible excuses as to why I might randomly knock on someone’s door when the right-hand door suddenly opened. Jorge looked at me, slightly puzzled, and asked if I was planning on coming in. I muttered a “yes,” and followed him in.

Jorge’s cabin was wider than mine but due to its proximity to the engine room was noisier and noticeably warmer. I glanced around briefly, just to satisfy myself that everything checked out. The room was simple like mine but looked a bit more lived in, with some photos on the wall, a closet in one corner and what looked like an altar in the other. There was a large bed on one side covered only in a white sheet. Jorge handed me a white bathrobe and told me to put it on and it was at that moment that I realised that he too was wearing a bathrobe, the top of his chest exposed.

I did as I was told and undressed, placing my clothes on a nearby chair and put on the robe, waiting for further instructions. “Lie down, close your eyes and relax," said Jorge. Although my mind wanted to know what was coming, my body simply reacted and I lay down in the centre of the bed, closed my eyes and took a few deep breathes. I noticed the light go down through my eyelids, but I didn’t dare open them. I heard the sound of a match being lit and blown out again a few moments later, followed by the smell of sandalwood. 

Jorge sat on the bed and adjusted himself so that he was above my head. Then he said, “you must learn to let go of control and limitation, and to accept all of the gifts that life offers you." He rubbed his hands a few times and then slowly started massaging a warm oil into my scalp using his fingers. His touch became gradually firmer as he started working his hands into the back of my neck. It felt really good and I made an involuntary groaning sound, only to catch myself, slightly embarrassed. His hands were large and strong and it felt like he could crush my skull if he wanted to, yet his touch was tender and firm at the same time.

Jorge worked his hands down to my shoulders, coming up with his thumbs every now and then to massage the sides of my jaw. My mouth opened slightly and I felt exposed as he moved his powerful thumbs in circles over my cheeks. He cupped my head in his palms and turned it from side to side, stretching and extending my neck. I felt like I was turning to jelly, lying helplessly in this man’s grip.

Jorge pulled the top of my bathrobe open, exposing my upper body, and continued to rub my chest and between each my ribs. He didn’t leave a single part untouched and I was starting to feel aroused. I had never been touched by a man like this, nor by anyone for that matter. With each inhalation he would hold my ribcage as it expanded and with each exhalation he would compress my ribs with hands, ensuring that the last of my breath was released. Again I felt completely exposed, as if this man could snap me like a stick if he wanted to. The fear mixed with pleasure made me still, submitting to what was happening.

I noticed heat rising in my body, especially in my chest and head, as Jorge turned me on my side. He began pressing his fingers into my back, starting from the top of my spine and gradually moving down. My head curled downward, followed by my neck and then chest. The bathrobe was now only covering my lower body and Jorge’s hands continued their kneading until he reached my waist, but he didn’t stop there. The bathrobe fell off me as he massaged into and around my hip joint and into my buttocks. I tensed a bit and he sensed my stiffening. He moved to my thighs, my calves and my feet, pressing his fingers deep into my soles which again made me groan as even more tension was released and waves of pleasure filled my body.

Jorge gently moved back up to my mid-section. I felt like any remaining tension had completely dissolved and this time I surrendered completely to his touch. He massaged around my asshole with his fingers, delicately but deliberately, touching me in places that I had never been touched before. He lingered on the area between my ass and balls, applying pressure to my perineum, until he finally made his way to the base of my cock. I was already rock-hard and when he firmly squeezed the base of my cock, I experienced what I can only describe as an orgasm that swept through my entire body. I gasped for air, my eyes rolled in to the back of my head and my eyelids opened just enough for me to see that his bathrobe had opened and that his cock was only a few inches from my face. I instinctively bent forward and greedily wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. My tongue felt the opening in the tip of his cock and swirled around the domed shape of his large head. I felt his cock growing in my mouth as I sucked, my lips sealed tight around the rim of his head.

The sensation of having his cock fill my mouth while folding my legs back, exposing me even more, resulted in a mixture of feeling completely vulnerable and safe at the same time. It was something I had never experienced in my adult life and I bathed in the glory of it. While still sucking I brought my hand to the shaft of his cock, pumping it in sync with my sucking motions. It wasn’t long before I heard Jorge groan and say, “prepare to drink the nectar of life”. I cupped his ball-sack in my hand, wanting what it held in store for me. A warm liquid entered my mouth and I swallowed, accepting every last drop of his warm semen.

I awoke from a deep sleep after what must have only been a few minutes. Jorge was towelling himself down after showering and began dressing himself. He caught my glance and told me that he had to get ready for his shift. I had absolutely no sense of time and noticed that a bathrobe was draped over me. Jorge told me to go to my cabin and to sleep through the night. I got dressed and walked toward the door. Before opening it I turned around and said, “thank you, how can I repay you?”.

Jorge smiled in acknowledgment and replied, “one day you can pass this on to someone else like you and the circle will be complete." I walked to my cabin, undressed, slipped into bed and into a deep sleep. 

The following morning I awoke early with a feeling of vitality and excitement for the day. Although the routine of my shift was the same, I saw everything with new eyes. It was like I had been reborn and was seeing everything — the sea, the sky, the stars — for the first time. The rest of the journey passed enjoyably and I was even somewhat upset to be leaving the sea when we did eventually reach our destination. I hardly saw Jorge during those last weeks, but I carried a distinct feeling of aliveness with me when I left the ship. I can honestly say that it was a turning point in my life, and I’ve been fortunate to have had the opportunity to repay the favour to a few men over the many years that have passed.