Will Foraker can’t help but grin as he hoists his drink inside the Coffee Grounds, considering the seas, the cityscape and his songs. A considerable distance lies between what pays the bills in some faraway tropical paradise and the pure joy he feels playing his own songs here, landlocked temporarily in Terre Haute.

Oceans—both virtual and literal—exist after all, between the piano virtuosity he brings to Terre Haute clubs interspersed with the work he does to make it happen: six-month stints setting sail, accommodating travelers with requests.

By September, Foraker, a Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology graduate, could be back onboard a cruise ship for another two seasons, playing in a piano bar and engaging in an ongoing contest of “stump the band” with vacationers.

He set out to become an engineer, but wound up doing what he loves best: music, played full force, with the stone cold, true believer guile. He’s a journeyman and a virtuoso, serving up originals and paying tribute to the jazzmen and soul singers whose music he loves.

For now, though, with summer just settling into the Wabash Valley and temperatures rising into the 90s by early June, Foraker and his band mates in the Leonard Washingtons were getting studio tans at Don Arney’s Quantum Studios by day.

With Al Doti on drums, Michael Nearpass on trombone, Alex Sperellis on sax, and Adam Brown on trumpet and keyboards, the new record, tentatively titled “LW2,” could be complete by July, if all goes well. Adding Eric Schatz on bass has energized the band.

Their first effort, “Introducing the Leonard Washingtons,” the five-song EP which represented the band’s initial efforts, has already been remixed and brightened. All the players have really honed their skills and have grown so much musically,” Arney enthused. “This (new disc) may be one of the best Cds I’ve ever done.”

Foraker’s come back from the sea with a stronger voice, courtesy the girl he met there-Hannah–as she performed in revues. Two self-professed “jazz nerds,” they became a couple, and would stay after hours in the lounge, trading lessons on vocalizing and jazz theory. When they return to sea, it’s likely they’ll do so singing duets. ”That’s what we’re hoping for,” he laughs.

Foraker, who’d never taken vocal lessons before, aimed to sing the songs over on his band’s first EP before his band mates convinced him otherwise. “The vocals were so raw, but they were where we were at the time. We weren’t trying to do anything, just have fun. We weren’t trying to book gigs, just coming in to record some songs just to have something to give people. So we’re leaving those where they are.”

This time, they aim to capture their live sound. Unquestionably, the Washingtons hit hard. Proof of Foraker’s fervor might be best found in the payment Arney asked for after some sessions: simply replacing the hammers on the Roland keyboard he’d worn out. Foraker threw in some Cohiba cigars procured on his voyages. Perhaps by then, the keys had stopped smoking.

They’ve hung together for six years, despite conditions that would splinter most groups. The Washingtons congealed first as Plastic Heroes in 2005, five high school friends who finished third place in the Terre Haute North High School talent show, then resounded the next year to win the city’s Battle of the Bands. They’re an eclectic crew, fusing funk, rock, blues, jazz and hip hop. Even Foraker’s travels lend themselves to the band’s catholic tastes.

Aboard the cruise ship, he’s a crowd pleaser. If he doesn’t know the number patrons are requesting, he’ll learn it. Sometimes that means hunting down a finely aged piece of vintage 1970s cheese that’s older than he is—David Soul’s “Don’t Give Up On Us, Baby”—as fervently as the former “Starsky and Hutch” star ever chased crooks.

Sometimes, the Washingtons have to rely on their library of covers to win over crowds. When a Warsaw, Ind. Crowd proved nonplussed with unfamiliar originals the band played, a quick run through Billy Preston’s “Nothing from Nothing Leaves Nothing,” and Warren G’s “Regulate” won them back–but as soon as he saw his chance, Foraker led the band back into their originals.

Foraker’s hero, Bobby Timmons, famous for “Moanin’” and his work alongside Art Blakely, would be proud. “I love soul. Just that pure, guttural soul, where you just try to make the piano wail, just to play with a touch that hits you full force,” Foraker emphasizes. “I try to give the jam some space, and just make everything ebb and flow, but on a really joyous solo, on something like ‘Ophelia,’ I’m trying to channel what Timmons did in a jazz sense.”

It’s good to be home, Foraker admits, back to the places where he can see dozens of people who know the band so well. “There’s a warm kind of butterfly fuzziness,” Foraker grins, soaking in the aftermath of watching the crowd sing along to the band’s originals during a May set at Alpha Tau Omega Fraternity on the Rose- Hulman campus.

“It’s like these songs are part of these people’s college experience...when I backed off of the mike and they sang along with me, it was almost overwhelming.”

Many nights, club goers got the chance to see the Washingtons at full strength, but that’s an unfortunate rarity these days. Most of the band, like Foraker, spends a sizeable percentage of their year elsewhere.

Nearpass, a University of Illinois music major, just finished his senior year while Brown’s returning to Indiana University after a year at Boston’s vaunted Berklee School of Music. Sperellis is a freelance graphic designer, and Doti’s an Indiana State University engineering technology major who doubles as the group’s manager.

In early spring, the Washingtons were down to a duo, just Foraker and Doti playing sets at the Verve. Even down by three men, they’re impressive, but together live, the quintet’s a wonder.

“We’d love to play all around the state, but the biggest issue is, we don’t have a consistent live band that can produce what we do in the studio,” Foraker laments. “We also haven’t found a guitarist that can do all our live shows.” They know, however, they’re racing the clock to get the next record done, and to play for as many as possible, then disperse for a while.

The ocean and the city might both be inevitable, after all, but the music remains a constant.