Andrew Hartman

1/26/2012
Mr. Theodore Chelis
A Boys Life
One of the greatest fallacies held by the youth of my generation is the idea that Boy
Scouts is an organization designed to teach nerdy boys how to accomplish useless tasks like
tying knots and eating berries. Four presidents and several astronauts were Boy Scouts. Gerald
R. Ford and Neil Armstrong, both Eagle Scouts, attest to the characteristic of Boy Scouts
trending to be intelligent individuals. However, being a genius or book worm is not and never
has been a prerequisite to becoming a scout. The beauty of scouting is that any boy can do it and
enjoy their time with the program along the way.
Nevertheless, my journey with scouting provided me with enhanced knowledge ranging
in topics from camping, to citizenship in my community, to newfound friendships and memories
that I may cherish for the rest of my life. After 13 years in scouting, I finally earned my Eagle
Scout rank. This day of award and recognition was the culmination of thousands of hours at
weekly meetings, monthly camping trips, and endless service projects benefiting my community.
My greatest memory, however, did not come from an average shotgun shooting or white water
rafting camping trip. In the summer of 2008, the oldest scouts in my troop organized a high
adventure trip to the Florida Keys. This week long vacation would end up being a life changing
event for me and the friends I experienced it with.
Sea Base is only one of many high adventure trips that high ranking Boy Scouts have
available to them. Others, including Philmont in New Mexico and Northern Tier in Minnesota,
are seven to nine day excursions in the wilderness. I remember thinking Why would I want to
go on an extended weekend camping tripsomething Ive done countless times before? The

rest of my troop, feeling the same way, began to look for alternatives. Sea Base, a nine day tour
around the Florida Keys on an 81 foot sailing ship, seemed much more appealing than a week
hiking through the mountains. We signed up. Months later, during Spring Break 2009, we found
ourselves on an airplane flying to West Palm Beach, our bags packed and our hopes set high.
As I stepped out of the airport into the streets of West Palm Beach, my skin was shocked
by the intense warmth of the Florida sun. Looking down at my winter white skin, I smirked at the
idea that in nine days I would be walking back into the airport sporting a fresh suntanned look.
We all hurried across the parking lot towards the rental cars with a sort of nervous excitement for
how the next week would end up.
Miles flew by as our minivans traveled from West Palm Beach to Marathon Island in the
Florida Keys. During this three hour journey I distinctly remember spotting one of the rare
similarities that are shared between Sea Base vacations (almost) and regular Boy Scouts camping
tripsa car full of teenage boys in the hot Florida sun is never a good thing. Matt, a funny
looking kid who has always been a good friend of mine, was always the joker of the crew. It
smells like a dead skunk in here he said conveniently, just after he contributed his own flatulent
stench to the van. We all giggled like the immature teenage boys that we were at the time but
also quickly recognized the crucial need to open every window in the van immediately. These
are the great things about Boy Scoutsbeing able to laugh with a group of guys that you can
enjoy and remember even the most unpleasant moments of scouting events with. Nevertheless,
the moment that we pulled into the Sea Base fort parking lot was a relief that was shared by
every person in the two minivans.

Perhaps the best part about arriving at the fort was not even the raw excitement of
knowing that we would soon be setting sail, but instead the feeling I got when I took my first
step onto the beach sand. Millions of granules of warm sand coursed between my toes and
tickled my feet for the first time in almost a year. As the humid ocean breeze blew through my
hair and ruffled my shirt, I took a good look into the vast sea in front of me. I was standing at the
border between two seemly infinite entities an ocean filled with an uncountable volume of salt
water and a beach holding an unimaginable number of sand granules. There I stood, in the midst
of so much, but at the same time all by myself.
The next morning I woke up from a sleep that I never quite reached. Anticipation of the
next days events plagued my mind throughout the entire night.
The van ride to the shipyard was agonizing. Once again I was greeted by the familiar, yet
unpleasant smell of a car full of eager boys. However, minutes later I found myself walking
down the dock towards the vessel of my dreams. In front of me, was an 81 foot sailing yacht
named The Calypso Gypsy. This beautiful boat was owned by Captain Lance Holdstrom,a 60
year old man whos vocabulary was like that of an 18 year old hipster. Whats up brah? he said
to me as I shook hands with him for the first time. I knew instantly that the week ahead would be
one of the most relaxing ones in my entire life.
We set sail that Saturday and over the course of the next seven days, our daily schedule
consisted of sleeping in, waking up to a stellar breakfast, sun tanning for a couple hours, fishing
throughout the day, snorkeling in the crystal clear waters of the keys, eating an amazing fresh
fish dinner, and then peacefully falling asleep under the starry night sky. It was similar to that of
a good old fashioned weekend in the mosquito filled dirty woods, except, the complete opposite.
For once I did not have to worry about completing daily tasks and making sure my patrol was

doing what they needed to do at all times of the day. I was on a Boy Scout trip, and relaxing!
Sometimes our schedule got even too relaxing. When sun tanning became boring, the captain
called us all together for a dive session. Every dive session began with the traditional flip off the
side of the boat into the warm blue water. Seeing the 60 year old captain perform this maneuver
with ease made me realize that I could do this sort of thing for the rest of my life.
Ive always loved the ocean; more specifically water in general. During the time of this
trip, I was in my 11th competitive year of swimming. Being in the water felt natural to me, and it
showed when we embarked on our dive sessions. Midway into one these sessions, one of the
scouts tripped over the ladder on the side of the boat and knocked it into the water where it sunk
30 feet down to the bottom of the ocean. Being one of the best swimmers on the crew and a
competitive person, I spontaneously jumped up and dove to the bottom for the ladder rescue. The
deep end of my summer swim pool is 12 feet deep and was always easy to reach when I was
younger. This however, was two and a half times as deep and would surely be a challenge to
reach not to mention I also had to surface with the 20 pound ladder in hand.
When I reached the bottom, I surprisingly realized that I was neither out of breath nor
tired. I took this opportunity to look around the bottom of the ocean at all of the coral and fish
that surrounded me. As I reached down for the ladder, my hand came up with a fist full of silky
white sand. The granules sifted through each of my fingers and slowly sprinkled down to the soft
floor of the ocean. Instantly, I found myself once again standing on the beach where I noticed the
relationship between the ocean, sand, and myself. Now almost one hundred miles away from that
previous location, I was still in the same place. Overwhelmed by the true vastness of the ocean
and also aware that I had been at the bottom for nearly ten seconds, I grabbed the ladder and
returned to the surface.

Welcomed to a chorus of cheers and a breath of fresh air, I felt more relaxed than I ever
had before. It is amazing how getting a break from school work and the daily schedule I abided
by back home could leave me in such a calming mood.
As I stepped into the airport and headed towards the gate for Philadelphia, I remorsefully
looked down at my arms and realized that I should probably get some Aloe Vera very soon. The
sun ended up getting the best of me after all. While most of my friends had their heads low in
sadness that such a fun trip was coming to a close, I paused and realized that during this trip I
became a new person. Certain moments on this trip, like the ones where I found myself alone on
a quiet beach or in the middle of the infinite ocean, will last with me forever and define me as a
person. It is during this trip that I discovered my introspectiveness. I love being around friends
and family but I also find great pleasure in spending time with myself and nature. Although this
is not a required characteristic by any means for a Boy Scout to possess, I believe it is what
allowed me to enjoy every moment of my scouting experience; even the ones I spent alone.
Three years ago, in the spring of 2009, I realized my true love for the ocean and all that
lives within it. Today, I am a student and Midshipman in the Naval ROTC unit at Penn State
University. Sometimes people ask me why I joined the ROTC program here at Penn State and
why I am giving five years of my life to serve in the United States Navy after college. I could
respond with the typical I want to serve my country answer, but instead I think back to all that
Boy Scouts has allowed me to experience. If it werent for the trip I took to Sea Base, I may have
never discovered why Ive always loved the water and spending time alone. These are traits that
will coincide well with my future in the Navy. My answer to this question is in the form of a
story, and begins with a plane ride to West Palm Beach.