Riding
on the Lake Express Ferry for the first time.
We’ve just left behind the last of the birds doing the “Boat Challenge”,
which I assume is a contest which consists of a dare to outrace the ferry for
as long as possible. Once the Lake
Express gets up to its full cruising speed, it’s passing even the fastest
moving birds like they’re standing still… except they’re flying parallel to the
ship.
The
Wisconsin coastline is still very visible, and Michigan, up ahead, is still
just a vague notion. At the mid-point,
I’ll show you what both coasts look like.
It’s
an odd blend of people on the ferry this morning. There is a palpable sense of adventure to
many of the groups. It’s difficult to
pin down any generalizations about the socio-economic status of Lake
Express-ers. Even more difficult to
figure out is any kind of cultural mean.
There are a couple of foreigners, several “older couples”, a smattering
of little kids with a parent or two, and a biker couple. There are several people dressed like
drifters, and an inordinate number of people wearing bright neon, which makes
me constantly mistake them for crew members.
I can’t figure why they chose such bright attire, whether it’s their
norm, or they felt it was befitting the water voyage.
The
terminal, naturally, has the ooky borderland feel that almost any kind of
station has. A multitude of ennui from
the people waiting, coupled with the dense feeling of mass anticipation, makes
any transit hub a jumble of weighty unpleasant-ness. Airports are particularly interesting
examples of this, because the ‘average’ passenger is so much more
bourgeois. You expect a certain amount
(that amount being large) of heavy despair when you’re at a bus station, but when
you’re at an airport, it doesn’t seem quite as ‘natural’. That sense of despair and foreboding is
foreign for most passengers preparing to fly, and they don’t like it, and they
don’t know where it’s coming from.
Now
that we’re en route, though, things are looking up. The side to side* canting of the boat aside (I’m
riding up top), the ominous feel of the terminal is left behind, and the
anticipation of arrival has captured the collective imagination of the
passengers. The air up here is heavy
with humidity, but feels good, in conjunction with steady wind, and the
forthcoming sunshine from Michigan (as you can see, the sun has long since
risen, but not above the cloud-line quite yet) gives the trip a sense of hope.
* As I typed “side-to-side”, I tried to cast back to my nautical terminology, but only came up with port and starboard (which I think is back and left – a la JFK)… I then looked at the bottom of my shoe, because one of my pairs of shoes (boat shoes, natch) has the labels for all 4 directions of boating terminology (I think a third is aft – I can’t discover the fourth yet).
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