“Ask her if she wants to teach English Composition to a bunch of horny sailors,” my college mentor’s husband hollered from the background as we discussed my pursuit of a teaching position. I had just completed a master’s degree in creative writing at the age of fifty-three with a goal of teaching English composition at the college level.

“Sure,” I answered, "how do I sign up?” I said half-joking. With no knowledge of Navy life or experience traveling on a ship, the opportunity to get my “teaching” feet wet (no pun intended) and travel the globe intrigued me. After a year of preparation, my ship came in, and I jumped on board with enthusiasm. I had always taken pride in physical fitness and never thought much about my age. However, I caught many sideways glances and raised eyebrows as I traipsed through the ship’s passageways.

I hated being the new girl. That's how I felt, but in fact, I was the new, old teacher. I was possibly the oldest person on the ship. I was older than the captain, older than the doctor, older than the dentist. The only thing I might not have been older than were the computers in the classroom.

As we traveled the Pacific and Indian Oceans, Philippine Sea, and other bodies of water, I learned, taught, and grew an appreciation for a group of people I now called my students. We didn’t know where our first port destination would be, and I found it frustrating though exciting. When I asked why the secrecy, I received the response "Loose lips sink ships." Each day, I trudged up and down ladders to class with a backpack filled with textbooks and found creative ways to teach while the ship bobbed along the ocean like a beachball in an abandoned pool. Rough waters often had me dancing in front of the class to keep my footing steady.

Frequent commands belted over the loudspeakers resulted in students rushing out of class leaving chairs scattered on their sides. I never asked, but if the sailors were indeed horny, they kept that frustration to themselves. After thirty days at sea, one morning a loud voice shrieked through the ship’s speakers like the late Robin Williams and shouted, “Good morning, Vietnam!” Together, the crew and I ventured off the ship to learn and experience together.