My “prep messiness” gene

I’ve always admired those highly organised people with their to-do lists, checklists, and laser-sharp focus on details. I wish I could say I was one of them. After all these years of travelling, both for work and for myself, you’d think I’d have it down by now.

Not quite.

At the moment, I’m navigating a pile of pre-travel puzzles. There’s the in-transit visa for seafarers, still waiting to be approved and issued. I’m also wondering whether it’s advisable to get a yellow fever vaccine at my age. Technically, I had one 45 years ago before a trip to China, but there’s no official stamp to show for it.

Then there are the smaller, more human questions. If the crew asks me to cook something, what would I make? Maria told me they appreciate any change from the usual. I have two reliable dishes: chilli con carne, and a simple apple sauce recipe passed down from my Irish grandmother. They both taste like home, at least to me.

I’m also fretting about what clothes to bring and whether there’s a luggage limit I’ve overlooked. Is it too late to start a checklist? Probably not. Should I have started one weeks ago? Absolutely.

When I look at this part of myself, I see my father. Dave was kind, funny, and spectacularly disorganised. He passed on what I’ve come to call the “prep messiness” gene. No one was more forgetful or haphazard in their planning.

Once, he forgot to bring sea charts for a trip from the Isle of Man to southwest Scotland. One of the crew had a road map, so he used that instead. He worked out rough bearings and speeds from earlier watches, headed for land, and hoped the coastline would line up with a town name on the road atlas. It sounds ridiculous, and it was, but it also worked more often than not.

So here I am, doing my best to get ready with that same scattered energy. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest. Maybe I’ll let AI have a go at helping me pack. It can’t hurt.