Hal is not the most sentimental person. Leading the kind of life he does, he has learned not to get overly attached to material matters and to focus instead on immediate survival as well as long term planning. He has a frugal nature, and works hard to maintain a lifestyle that will be sustainable once he reaches a point where he has to retire from seafaring. He even has some coin stashed away in various places, waiting for him to gather up when the time comes.
The point he is at by the time our story starts is fairly close to the end of the road for Hal. He’s reached the point where he is ready to put an end to tromping around after younger men at sea, and set up shop somewhere. Legitimate business along the shore, be it a bar or an inn – maybe both, if he can swing it – but ultimately speaking, Hal does not want to go inland.
The smell of the sea itself is home to him – the sound of the waves as well. When he can no longer smell the brine or hear the crash, he grows uncomfortable – doesn’t feel right inside without those particular sensory inputs. He feels half whole without them, which is part of why he has pushed his career so damn long – he wants to make certain he has enough money to settle in a port city, because anything else just wouldn’t be worth living.
Ocean Archive 