The Atlantic Ocean

Time on the ship is moving at a different pace.  Each day is a week, but somehow I can't find time to blog.  At the same time, I couldn't tell you exactly what there is to do on the ship.  There are classes and lectures, of course, and there is a great deal of time spent looking out at the vast Atlantic Ocean and conversing with other voyagers. 

The ocean is unfathomably large.  It almost appears as a 2-dimensional photograph or painting because there are no landmarks or points of reference in the water.  Occasionally, a plastic bag or a piece of sea-plant will float by, and it will be mildly interesting because there is nothing else to mark the distance of the water except the relative size of the swells and white caps in the distance.  As the other voyagers and I look out onto the ocean, we often mention the colors.  The colors of the ocean are amazing.  When there is nothing else out here to distract the eye (or much apparent pollution), the colors of the ocean become more vivid and distinguishable.  The wake behind the ship is a constant baby blue, marking our path far behind us.  When you look out the window, the sky might be grey and cloudy, so the ocean reflecting it becomes grey-er.  Then, you look over the edge of the deck outside, right into the water below, and it's every shade of blue with bold streaks of white where the ship breaks the uniformity of swells that stretch as far as you could possibly see.  In the evenings, many voyagers gather outside after dinner to watch and photograph the sunset.  As the sun sets, the water is the most impossible shade of purple.  Looking at the water in the evenings, you think that the ocean must be dyed that color.  You can never see into the water; it's too deep.  There is no visible sea life.  It's just the top of the water and the sky with various clouds, commanding the landscape.  On very dark, overcast nights, you can't see anything further than a few feet out from the sides of the ship, giving the impression that we might really be alone out here.  Maybe we're not on the Earth's ocean at all but in outer space.  Then, I bring myself to look over the edge and, by the ship's light, I can see white where the ship breaks the water and remember that the ocean is still there, even if I can't see it.

People saw dolphins a couple of times at the beginning of the voyage.  One day, I saw another boat.  Finally, we passed the Azores.  Everyone came out to watch them pass by because it was the first time we had seen land since Halifax.  At the beginning, it was difficult to adjust to the idea of being away from land, but as we approach Spain, I am feeling a little nervous for the change.  I just got used to being on the ship!  It's very exciting but very hard not to have a familiar routine.