No More Boats

It has happened again. The last cruise ship of the season has sailed off into the sunset, not to be seen again until April. The town of Ketchikan expels a long awaited sigh of relief as they transition into the long winter. For many of us, we will be leaving in the morning. For others, they will stay behind and keep an eye on the town. Preparing it for next years fleet of cruise ships. It is the cycle of the seasonal worker. We get the best of whatever town we are in, we watch it bloom, blossom and flourish all season long. Only to abandon it once it loses its shine, leaving it to the real locals to nurse it through the off season months. A fair weather fan is all I am. But like a loving mother, I know that Ketchikan will always have a place for me should I ever want to come back.
I ended this season as well as I could ask for. I had a wonderful tour. In fact, there was a film crew there. They were making a new promotional video to show on the cruise ships, meaning thousands of people are likely to see my furry face as they voyage through Alaska next year. On top of that I had a very lovely lady from Dallas Texas who was in a wheelchair because she only had one leg. She was an absolute delight, complimented me many times and convinced her son to push her in a wheelchair race with another chair bound guest. Later in the day I had a family from Sydney Australia, I must say that they had the two most polite children I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. A six year old and a four year old. They started every single sentence in a little Aussie accent with, "excuse me mister bus driver sir." It was absolute gold. They asked me all sorts of things, how to drive a bus, if they could be the bus police man, where I came from, why are cruise ships so big, and things of that nature. They were also very willing to tell me stories about their lives, where they lived, when they went to school, how old their parents were. But every single time, "excuse me mister bus driver sir." Undeniable adorable.
So I sit here writing this, enjoying the sounds of raindrops on window panes, I am sad to leave this place behind but happy to have been able to be here at all. I have made new friends, seen old friends and I'm happy the way this all turned out. I am the luckiest kid in the world and I love my crazy hobo kid life.