by The moonlight laid her silver hands on my shoulders as I sat upon the deck gazing at the dark gradient horizon. The calm black sea lulled the ship like a babe in the crib. A gentle sea breeze careesed my hair and face as I watched shallow clouds approach the bow. The ragtag team of scientists sprawled on their backs, letting their minds ramble with ponderings. “What of the ancients who looked up long ago and navigated their way in ships? What of the men who risked their lives to hunt whales when boats were canoes and much smaller than the great Cetaceans they pursued? What of the power and mystery of the dark deep water and the divers who crazily passionately push the envelope of what man can be beneath the waves? What of the stars and their places?” In that moment, the land was lost upon them and they were like the heavens together in their spectacular twinkles of wonder. The validation of humanity in the ocean wilderness made apparent while blurring cultural lines of the lands they emerged from.
There were so many moments during the day that I felt totally comfortable with the crew and the
team.
The first spectacular event occured after our safety briefing videos. The crew introduced
themselves and we ran a safety drill carrying under one arm safety vest and a large cotton bag
down to the main lab to muster. We were split in two groups one portside the other starboard and
practiced putting our lifejackets on. After properly learning the procedure for boarding an
emergency boat, we mustered in the main lab again and opened the large cotton bag. Inside was a
bright orange folded emergency suit used for abandon ship. In the case that the lifeboats are
compromised and we must jump from the vessel and swim for our lives, we were to wear the
gumby suit to protect us from water temperature, visibility, and flotation. The science crew put
away their vests and suits properly and were free to roam about the vessel until the team set their
ambitions on witnessing the glory of the night sky.
After the clouds had blocked the stars we went inside the bridge which was lit only by moonlight. The lights were dimmed so the crew could adjust their night vision. Only red lights remained warming the eyes and mind. Underneath a red lamp, a gentleman with long grey hair and beard, showed the scientists how to chart maps and gave a short narrative on how a sextant was used towards navigation. He offered to show the use of one during the day when the sun would be charted once before noon, once at noon and once shortly after noon. The third mate, Steve gave me the Captain’s chair and showed me how to steer the ship, which I was as responsible for driving as a toy wheel. (Despite the control panel being inactivate it was still a really cool chair to lounge in!) The bridge has many screens and control panels for various measurements and one can see 180 degrees through any of the 29 windows. A siren’s song gently lulled throughout the bridge as I studied the sonar and navigation maps and interviewed the crew. After spending time on the bridge I headed down to my cabin to retire.
I grabbed hold of a Macmillan yachting book and fell asleep holding my hand between the book’s pages.
