When traveling through Turkey, I had to catch a ferry from, I believe, near-Bursa to Istanbul, which would take me across of the Sea of Marmara. I say, "I believe," because on the return leg I was feeling very ill and usually was passed out--aside from the times I had to run to the bathroom. A stomach bug + a love of spicy food is generally agreed upon to be a bad decision, but when you love spicy food, you forget such things.
While boarding the boat, I noticed dark storm clouds looming on the horizon. A stiff breeze, choppy waters, and suspiciously empty ferry clued me in that most thought it unwise to travel by boat. As we pulled out of the harbor, I could see even larger waves and a host of ships heading for safer waters. We were the only boat heading out towards open water.
The farther we got, the worse the waves became. It wasn't long before the entire ship was heaving and hawing with each wave. Up we went, then, a precipitous drop strong enough to remind one of a roller-coaster. My stomach and bowels also sent me another reminder. It was bathroom time, and I had to go immediately.
As I navigated to the bathroom, walking like the drunkest person on the planet, I contemplated with all seriousness whether the boat would sink. I had seen news prior that a ferry had sank in similar fashion while on the Adriatic. Once to the bathroom, I realized that the seas were so rough that the toilet had become a cross between a bidet and a geyser. Desiring to avoid being splashed by my own filth, I decided to spiderman my way above the toilet with one foot on the sink, another on the rail, and my back wedged up against the wall above the toilet.
From this lofty perch, I did my business and somehow avoided sullying myself. The same, however, couldn't be said for the toilet and the floor. The waves were simply too strong and no matter how quickly I tried to flush, there was spillage.
Making my way out of the bathroom, I found a long line of bleary-eyed, sea-sick Turks. I don't know whether it was the scene I left or the sheer motion in the ocean that caused it, but the first person into the bathroom behind me immediately puked, causing those behind him to cascade vomit.
While I'm not proud of what I did, it ended up being a bonding opportunity as my then ex-girlfriend (who had broken up with me a week before visiting) mended the fence. For that, I will always look upon that day as a time when my poop truly built a bridge over troubled waters.
