A Condensed Guide to the History and Significance of My Time as a GLSC Cleaner

by Holly Bradshaw

When I was a senior in high school, my best friend’s older sister worked at Great Lakes Sailing Company. I didn’t know what she did for the company or anything about sailboats. Honestly, it hadn’t crossed my mind that people even worked at marinas. It seemed like a good enough gig and I was looking for a new summer job, so I decided to apply.

This is currently my fifth summer at GLSC, and a lot has happened both in my life and at the company since my first day as a cleaner. Boats and cleaning staff, including my friend’s sister, have come and gone. I went to college and graduated. Still, I always found myself returning to the marina—and I think that’s pretty special.

I was lucky enough to grow up in Traverse City, and I’ve always been drawn to nautical things. At my grandparent’s house there was this awesome lighthouse patterned shower curtain that I constantly found myself staring at. I’d been out on power boats before and loved playing mermaids at the beach. Yet, I never sailed as a kid. On my first day at GLSC, I was immediately aware that cleaning sailboats fit into the ‘niche job’ category. Still, my true appreciation of this work didn’t settle in until the first time I was down below cleaning an interior while it rained. As someone who loves the rain, even prefers it, I had never experienced such a peaceful downpour. I was suddenly keenly aware that I was in this unique, floating space, that boats (sailboats specifically) have an ability to create a place for us to exist on the water. Sailboats have simultaneously continued to boggle my mind and bring me comfort—they encourage abstract thoughts about what place and freedom means.

Aside from loving sailboats (and cleaning them allows me to understand them in an especially unique way), GLSC means more to me than just the boats. There’s a lot of wonderful people around the marina, including those who work at Great Lakes Sailing Company. When things get overwhelming in my personal life, the marina acts as its own kind of occupational paradise. It’s a place where I feel I have a purpose and am genuinely appreciated, I’ve never once felt like another cog in the society machine or that I’m just some replaceable employee. I know that I can come to CenterPointe and, even if the work day is troublesome, feel like I belong (as cheesy as it sounds).