
ARTWORK NOTE: The banner is a stylized editorial composite inspired by real photographs of the author and vessel. It is not documentary proof of a particular operation.
A Grifter’s Tale · Nootka Sound, British Columbia
Between the Work and the Water
People see the mountains, the clear water, and the photographs from the deck. They don’t always see the work that goes on between those pictures.
I took these photographs while spending time aboard a working vessel off Vancouver Island. They’re a reminder of something I love about this part of the world: a beautiful view and a working day can exist in exactly the same place.

01 / The place
A view that makes you look twice
There are stretches of this coast where the mountains seem to run straight into the water. When the surface is calm, the shoreline reflects back at itself and the whole inlet can look almost unreal.
I don’t need to dress these scenes up. These are the actual places I photographed while aboard. The open water, the distant ridges and the quiet stretches of shoreline are part of the story on their own.
But they aren’t pictures from a sightseeing cruise. Behind the camera is a boat where the day’s responsibilities keep moving, whether the scenery is spectacular or not.

02 / The job
Working on a boat isn’t the same as travelling on one
A working boat is a workplace, a shared living space and, for a while, your address. The job is not one glamorous task. It is the work you came to do, along with the preparation, care and ordinary jobs that make it possible to keep going.
My routine can involve helping on deck, keeping things clean, and getting meals ready for the crew. There’s always the galley to look after, a piece of gear to put away or the next job to prepare for.
That’s why I want this series to show more than machinery and dramatic scenes. The small responsibilities matter too, even when they don’t make an exciting photograph.

03 / The people and the rhythm
There’s a lot more to life aboard than what the camera catches
Working and living in the same place changes how you notice things. Meals, laundry, cleaning and shared spaces are no longer separate from work life. They are part of its rhythm.
And the people matter. The day is easier when everyone can communicate, look out for one another and do their part. I’m keeping personal crew stories for the times when the people involved have had a chance to review them.
For now, these photographs tell the story without putting anyone else’s private moments on public display.

Some places make you stop to admire the view. A working boat reminds you that the day still has a job attached to it.
04 / From the deck to the galley
Somebody still has to make lunch
One thing I especially enjoy sharing is the food. There’s something satisfying about turning an ordinary collection of shipboard ingredients into a proper lunch during a working day on the water.
One lunchtime aboard, I made a beef-and-vegetable yakisoba with a fried egg on top. A friend in Osaka had shown me a version of that dish years earlier. Now I was preparing my own version in a working galley off Vancouver Island. It was just lunch, but it connected two very different chapters of my life.
It’s my own version, using what we had available aboard—not a claim that everyone in Osaka cooks it the same way.
That story belongs in The Pirate’s Cookbook, which we’re developing as its own free collection. In this article, it’s another reminder that boat life includes the everyday things as well as the extraordinary views.

05 / Why I’m writing this
Real boats. Real people. Real stories.
That’s the idea behind The Curse of the Deckhand. Not polished recruitment copy, not an invented action movie, and not instructions somebody should copy from a photograph.
I want to share what working on boats feels like from the inside: the places, the routines, the meals, the challenges, and the human side of the work. Some stories will be funny. Others will be thoughtful. The more technical subjects will have to earn their place through proper checking.
If you came here for the scenery, I’m glad. Stick around for the story behind it.
Editorial and safety note: This is a personal photo essay, not a maritime operating guide. Illustrations are labeled and should not be treated as photographs of actual operations or as work instructions.

