Can Long-Distance Relationships Survive Constant Travel for Work?

Short answer: You can’t.

Long answer? Well, grab a drink and let me tell you what it's like to try to keep love alive while hopping between islands, time zones, and Wi-Fi dead zones.

On Paper, It Sounds Kind of Romantic

You’d think being constantly on the move, in exotic places, surrounded by sunsets and turquoise water, would somehow enhance romance. And to be fair, it does until you’re the one doing the actual work behind the scenes.

Because it turns out romance doesn't thrive when you’re working 14-hour days, hauling provisions onto a tender, sweating through your fifth uniform of the day, and smiling at guests while simultaneously wondering if your relationship is about to crash harder than your signal.

Time Zones Are a Love Killer

Good Morning, Goodnight, Repeat Until It Breaks

When I’m waking up to brief guests about manta rays, my partner is just crawling into bed. By the time I finally have a spare minute to text, they’re in a meeting, or asleep, or annoyed. And honestly? Fair enough. Because being in love with someone you never actually see is exhausting.

We’d schedule calls like meetings, plan video chats like military operations, and more often than not, one of us would cancel either because of bad weather, last-minute changes, or sheer exhaustion.

It doesn’t take long before your "romantic partner" starts to feel more like a missed calendar reminder.

Presence Over Presents

I used to bring home little gifts: handwoven sarongs, local snacks, bits and bobs from wherever I was working. But after a while, it felt like I was trying to buy connection instead of actually living it.

The truth is, being physically gone for weeks or months at a time takes its toll. You miss birthdays, arguments go unresolved because they’re happening over WhatsApp, and even though you’re technically "together," you end up living entirely separate lives. Souvenirs don’t fix that. Neither does a “good morning” text in a 3G zone.

Emotional Labor? I’m Already at Capacity

I don’t know if people realize how much energy it takes to run trips, host guests, and troubleshoot nonstop behind the scenes. By the end of the day, I’ve already performed enough emotional labor to deserve an honorary psychology degree.

Now imagine trying to also be a supportive, attentive, and emotionally available partner from a distance? Nope. Not happening. Not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t.

There’s a point where maintaining the relationship starts to feel like another job, except it’s unpaid and you can’t log overtime hours.

My Last Relationship Felt Like a Chore (And That Broke Me)

Here’s where I get real.

My most recent relationship didn’t end with a bang. It fizzled out quietly, drained by distance, unmet expectations, and a growing sense of resentment. I didn’t feel loved, I felt like I was failing, constantly. And they didn’t feel loved either.

Toward the end, it felt like I was clocking in and out of "relationship duties" rather than sharing something meaningful. There were no big fights, just slow emotional erosion. And I remember thinking: Is love supposed to feel like this much work?

Spoiler: it’s not.

Office Romance? Not for Me

With Guests? Absolutely Not

I’ve had guests flirt, and I shut it down immediately. Zero tolerance. I’ve worked hard to earn respect in this job, and I’m not about to jeopardize that for some cocktail-fueled compliment.

Besides, I find nothing romantic about being objectified in my workspace while trying to explain marine safety.

With Crew? Tempting But Tricky

I've seen it happen. And I get the appeal. You're in close quarters, share meals, adrenaline, and inside jokes. But it’s also like dating someone in a fishbowl. If it goes south, there’s nowhere to hide. Everyone knows. The drama spreads faster than a broken engine on a group chat.

For me, it's just not worth the risk. Especially when I’m already navigating literal storms at sea, I don’t need emotional ones too.

So What Now? Embracing My Single Era

The biggest lesson I’ve learned? It’s okay to choose yourself.

I used to feel like I should try to keep a relationship going. That I was somehow failing at being a “normal adult” if I didn’t have someone waiting for me back home. But guess what?

I don’t have someone waiting.

And I’ve never felt more at peace.

I can work, rest, swim, explore, and sleep diagonally in my bed without having to explain myself to anyone. And I’m not half-resentful, half-apologetic all the time because I’ve “failed” at staying in touch.

This life might be unconventional, but I chose it. And right now? It’s enough.

Can It Work Long-Term? Maybe.

I’m not saying it's impossible. I’ve seen couples who make it work. But it requires:

• Ridiculous levels of trust.

• Regular reunions (not just romantic weekends, actual time together).

• A shared understanding that this life isn’t glamorous, it’s gritty.

And even then, you both have to want the same thing. At the same time. In the same timezone. Which, let’s be honest, doesn’t happen often.

If You’re in This Boat Too, You’re Not Alone

If you’re someone who’s tried to juggle a full-time travel job and a relationship, and you’ve cried into your instant noodles wondering why it’s not working, hey, same. It doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. It just means your lifestyle requires a different rhythm. And maybe, right now, that rhythm doesn’t include someone else.

Love might be waiting later down the line, when the tides shift. But for now, I’m letting go of the pressure to “have it all.” Because honestly? Peace, freedom, and being wildly in love with my own life feels pretty damn good too.

TL;DR: Maintaining a Romantic Relationship While Constantly Away for Work?

You don’t. Not easily, anyway.

And maybe that’s not a failure, it’s just reality.

So if you're out here, single and sailing, with no one texting “wyd” at 3 AM, congrats! You're doing just fine.

Thank you for reading and now back to happily roaming!