A ship on the ocean distills the idea of movement. It’s the underlying force. We pitch and yaw and roll, and learn that walking in socked feet will end in sliding. It’s all about finding the balance between bracing and moving to the ocean’s rhythm.

This morning started off slow with a late wake-up for A Watch as we had watch till 1 AM last night. I slowly rose out of my bunk in the forward ship and made my way to grab some waffles. Watch began at 13:00 and A watch had the privilege of making sure we stayed on the right course as we began to approach Fiji.

If you’ve read any previous blogs, you may have learned or seen that life on a ship is fairly different from life on land. Our physical location, being on the open ocean on a sailing ship, is only one defining factor of our experience.

Today is special. It’s my 17th birthday! I was “lucky” enough to have the late night watch, which meant I was awake when the clocked struck twelve. My pals rushed me over to lab the minute it was past twelve to show off a new zooplankton they found, but all I found as I opened the curtain to a dimly lit laboratory was not a rare new breed of zooplankton.

As someone who has done offshore sailing before, I did not expect to be one of the unlucky ones, hunched over the rail, watching their lunch leave them. As things would turn out, leaving Pago Pago harbor, I was the very first to break. With relentless waves and a strong force 5 breeze, nausea quickly took over and I made my way to the rail on the starboard side of the quarterdeck.

Although my day technically began with my 0040 watch, it really began when I (and my roommates in the foc’sl) were jolted awake by the *very* loud sound of the windlass deploying the ships anchor.

After four nights on ship, and three spectacular days of learning in American Samoa, yesterday we set sail from Pago Pago Harbor. Though as individuals we had all awaited this moment by means of our own personal pilina, or relationship, with the dream of the voyage≈the visceral elation beamed from every face, connecting us all.

Dear friends and family,

It’s Tuesday evening, and we’ve been underway for almost twenty-four hours aboard the Sailing School Vessel Corwith Cramer. We’re deep in the Gulf of Maine, well out of sight of land, east of Skate Bank and Newfound Ground.

I started today at about 3 in the morning, when I failed to wake up on time for my watch. I eventually got on deck in time to catch the briefing from the previous watch, and was subsequently assigned to clean the dishes from last night’s dinner. (This wasn’t a punishment or anything - I was scheduled for dishes duty today). After scrubbing everything clean and brewing a fresh pot of coffee, I went back to help out on deck.

I can’t explain how much this leg has opened my eyes to certain things. Leaving Bermuda was pretty interesting. Sailing on a much larger scale of ship is pretty amazing and unique. From previous tall ship experiences “Mama Cramer” takes the cake on how slow she is at her top speed of 7 knots, but she’s pretty sweet. Sailing into open water gave me that thrilling rush, teaching me what to expect in upcoming days.