Most of my old crew after leaving the Navy struggled to get over their longing for the

ocean.

Such was the case for my submarine captain, Louis Johnson.

He always claimed the sea would be his final resting place, where he truly belonged.

And following his honorable discharge, he went straight into hyperbaric pipeline welding.

It's a dangerous job, but the only enemy is invisible.

Always stalking each die, each new mission.

A photo can't be sensed, but with the ability to destroy everything you're in in a split second.

Pressure.

Maybe I'm cursed, unable to live on land with my own people, but at least I'll die where I belong.

It said,

Johnson would be lucky enough to forever be united with his one true love at a sight or burst pipe.

One that took him away.

Finally making him one with a deep blue sea.

It's funny how the brain operates as everything around you is falling to pieces.

Far beyond your own control.

Once there is nothing left you can do, the mind turns into a place of safety, fond memories

from a time long since passed.

For me, those memories belong to my time of service, to my old captain and crew.

It wasn't an easy time, but it was filled with purpose, with my problem solely confined

to the ocean.

When Robert yelled at me to get my ass in gear, I finally snapped back to reality.

...