Two Speeds: Chaos and Collapse
Dispatches From the Cove - A life at sea lived between adrenaline and exhaustion
There were only ever two speeds when I worked on cruise ships: ready for the chaos and ready to jump overboard.
Look at the photo on the left, clutching a tiny cup of espresso, mustered enthusiasm plastered on my face. That’s me, bracing myself to tell three bartenders they were on final warning, calm the chef down after a galley meltdown, and still somehow make it to a guest cocktail party on time, lip gloss miraculously intact.
The photo on the right? That’s me moments after a roommate brawl over missing socks and too many nights being woken up at 3 am to breathalyze an intoxicated crewmember, curled up in my bed, asking the ceiling, “Is this my villain origin story?”
That was the rhythm: On duty, I was polished, composed, and armed with a clipboard full of grievances, most legitimate, some... decidedly less so. Off duty, I transformed into a glorified ghost, lying in bed, trying to remember what day it was, or if I had consumed anything beyond a rogue breadstick from the crew mess.
Ship life is a beast, a relentless tide of the unexpected. One moment, you are watching three managers lose it in three different languages – Tagalog, Italian, and Afrikaans, all while coordinating diversity training and troubleshooting a malfunctioning crew Xbox. Next, you are in a think tank with guest services, brilliantly trying to solve the mystery of a chihuahua pooping everywhere, brought on under the guise of a support dog. All before breakfast.
Every day was a blend of extremes:
Investigating a stolen iPad while dressed like a Love Boat extra.
Comforting a homesick crew member mid-lifeboat drill,
Being woken at midnight by a deck phone ringing with a cabin change request.
There is no off switch when you live at work. No commute home to decompress. No Trader Joe’s run to reset your nervous system. Just the endless buzz of ship announcements, the occasional man overboard drill, and the quiet realization that your tolerance for madness had become your superpower.
And still, I loved it.
Not because it was easy, but because it was real. The chaos meant people were alive, trying, growing, failing, and showing up. The exhaustion meant I was in it, part of something strange, beautiful, and demanding. Something that taught me what I was made of.
If you are someone who has lived at sea, you already know: ship life doesn’t just burn you out, it brands you. You leave a different person. Stronger. Sharper. Sometimes a little sleep-deprived and feral, but forever bonded to the people who were there in the trenches (or the lifeboats) with you.
So yes, two speeds. Chaos and collapse. Would I do it all over again? A million times, yes, I would not trade my experiences for anything.✨🛟✨
Did you ever have a job that changed you in ways you are still unpacking? Please share your “chaos and collapse” stories below 👇