SEA Currents: Corwith Cramer
October 27, 2015
Time is a Funny Thing at Sea
33° 33.0’N x 13° 25.22’W
Northeastern Atlantic underway to Madeira
Cloudy with some waves
Well looks like I chose a great time to write this blog. It’s currently 1845 ship’s time and we’ve finally hit some rough weather. At the moment things aren’t too bad with waves a little over 10 feet (3.5 meters). However, luckily for us, these waves are more long rollers that rock you to sleep rather than sharp up and downs that bash you around. I feel I echo the feelings of everyone on board when I say that I’m very glad I joined this program. The things I’ve seen and done living on this ship for the last month are the things that would be hard to find anywhere else, let alone in a classroom on land.
Yet one of the oddest things to get used to here is the passage of time. Your days aren’t marked by the rising and setting of the sun. Instead, it is marked by the idea of when you are on and when you are off watch. You take every chance you can to sleep, your whole world, it feels, cycles around the idea of sleep and watch. I think you would be hard pressed to find a time other than class when someone is not sleeping on this ship. Even in the long run, time is acting funny. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday when we were all arriving in Woods Hole or when we left the docks of Barcelona.
Other times it feels like an eon ago. You start asking yourself, could all this really have happened in the last 2 months? Did this process which began with me filling out an application in January really be coming to an end in less than 2 weeks’ time? Where did the time go? I think everyone is starting to ask themselves these questions now. Yet at the same time, I realize that I feel as if I have known these shipmates of mine for years. What a funny thing time is.
In the end though, going to sea, for all its challenges and all its hardships, still retains that romance that draws mariners back again and again. The wind in your hair, the sunrise when it just breaks the cloud cover, the sound of the waves on the hull and the beauty of the ship as she sails through the wide open ocean with not a soul in sight. This is what makes it all worthwhile even when it’s 4am and you are so tired, you keep going because, in the end, it’s more than worth it. I firmly believe that we all echo that same sentiment. Otherwise, why would we be here?