I was stationed at Tongass with the flag. Someone gets put at Tongass with the flag when there is a ship on 2 and a ship on 3, and we are loading at 3. When we can, we park the van at 2 for folks who might need it. In this case, I was “VAN DRIVER/TONGASS WITH FLAG” on the game plan.

At this point in the season, I feel like I’ve seen all there is to see. I’ve said every variation on directions that I can give. I’ve learned what works, I’ve learned how to best tell people how to get there. I’m not surprised when they ask me where the Aleutian Ballad is. (For cracker’s sake, their dock reps are never on time).

For all of these reasons, and because I’m beyond bored with doing the same thing, I’m feeling in a zany mood. Not zany from exhaustion, not punchy, just a little brazen perhaps and hoping to shake things up if the opportunity presents itself.

After sending a steady stream of guests on to Berth Three to look for Merek. I’d probably been standing there for 25 minutes, and I knew most of the group we were expecting had already passed me.

So when A lady in her 70s with a cane donning a shiny matching sweatsuit with teal and purple accents approached, I wondered if she might need the van. Around her neck, she has a purple lanyard but it’s got shiny purple embellishments that match her sweatsuit.

“Hi Ma’am, are you looking for me?”

“Yes I think so..”

“Okay you are going to walk toward the building with the red sign, past those buses, and look for Johnathon in a green jacket.

“How far?” She says with a hint of exasperation.

I say “Would you like to drive over in the van?” I knew I’d sent most of the group along already so Merek could send the rest of the folks straight to Johnathon and not mention me in the middle.

“Well, where is it?” She wanted to assess if she could make it.

“It’s to that building, there, with the red sign that says “Ketchikan, Visitors Information and Restrooms.”

“Uhhh okay I’ll take the van.”

“Suzanne Suzanne Natalie.” I speak into the radio as we make our way to Bertha, parked on Berth 2.

Suzanne: “Go ahead Natalie”

“I’m headed to Berth Three with one guest.”

Suzanne: “Thank you.”

I wrench on the door of Inimitable Bertha until she relents, quickly place the step stool on the damp asphalt and step aside to let this snazzy gal climb into the front seat.

We crank up Bertha and head to Three. I’m driving up the hill to Grant Street and I notice her jewelry. “Ooh, I like your ring!”

“Oh, yes, it’s peridot.”

“It’s my birthstone. I have another one at home like it that I really like, too.”

And I could just feel that I needed to go for it: “So what kind of advice do you have for me?”

“Well, what kind of advice do you mean?

And I’m already excited about what Ms. Peridot is going to say.

“Well what do you think I should do with my life?”

“Um, well, I would say… Well are you married?”

“Oh no, not married.”

“Okay well, neither am I and it’s always been that way. And that’s worked out great for me.”

“Oh it has? Well I’m so glad to hear that.” (I say that because I’m a little surprised at her straightforward contentedness. Most people are, well, not content).

She continued: “I had my days with men but I’ve slowed down now. I used to like the wild ones, they were fun. But now they’re too much for me, I can’t keep up with them.

I said: “I’ve been doing a bit of that myself! The bad ones are so much fun!”

“Yes, but they’re too much for me now.”

Now I’m pulling around to the other side of the Tongass, nearing Berth Three.

Some people ask for the van because they are just so overwhelmed at the thought of walking. Some people can’t make it and they are grateful for the ride. I could tell that Sally wasn’t embarrassed about using the van but wasn’t gonna make a big fuss about her health either. Some people have to tell me about their knee replacement surgery, or how hard it’s been to get around the ship since they fell the week before their cruise started. Sally didn’t really mention it. She just had her cane with her and didn’t talk about the status of her health at all. That was fairly unusual in my experience doing all the pick-ups.

“Where are you from?”

“I live in [insert ritzy California city, I can’t remember. Something like Santa Barbara].”

“Oh now that’s a very nice place to live!”

“Yes, I think it is.”

“Well, what is your name, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s Sally.”

“Sally! Nice to meet you, I’m Natalie.”

“Yes, I’m Sally Mullins.”

I expel myself from Bertha, grab the stool, place it in front of Sally like the 90s Jumpsuit Queen she is and walk her over to Johnathon.”

As I walk back to Bertha, I say “Suzanne Suzanne Natalie.”

“Go Ahead Natalie”

“I just dropped off one lady from the Princess. She is on the way.”

“Thank you!”

“Her name is Sally.”

“Okay” (As in, ‘why did you ask her name but sounds good to me’)

Apparently, Suzanne (who is probably the same age as Sally) rooted for her “Come on Sally” as she came down the ramp.

The only send-off for my Peridot Gal.