We started off our day this morning early with some cereal and coffee to wake us up and prepare us for the eventful day ahead. After packing up our bags for the day trip and putting on sunscreen we were ready to depart for our whale watch in Plymouth. Sadly, that same morning, was also the time our good friend and classmate, Diego, had to leave for Illinois for All States a week before the end of SEASCape.

What a day! The students on the Cramer began their first watch schedules. We had a great class on the sails, lines, including what the names of the sails on the Cramer are, and how they work, as well as securing and coiling ropes. We had our first oceanographic ‘super’ station to sample and collect scientific data on Stellwagen Bank. Our day even included “charismatic megafauna” sightings.

Today we woke up earlier than usual. We took the bus to Plymouth Harbor, embarked the whale watch boat, and joined a guided tour out to Cape Cod Bay.

You know you have made some great life choices when your dinner is interrupted by a surprise whale watching session.

We started a new phase in our watch-standing, having departed Port Antonio, Jamaica a little over twenty-four hours ago.  Now we begin what is called the shadow phase on board, in which a student is selected from the deck team to “shadow” the mate during the entire watch, listening closely to all of the information, as well as calling the set and strike of sails and other maneuvers (with some guidance). We switched the watches as well, so it is a big change on two fronts.

In the field of acoustics, a soundscape can be defined as the combination of all of the sounds that occur in, and make up, an environment. When we think of the ocean, we can categorize these sounds into three main groups: biological (such as whales or fish), abiotic (natural sounds such as wind or rain), and anthropogenic, or human-caused (such as vessel noise).

We departed Samana early this afternoon after our longest port stop thus far. Due to a departure delay, bonefish watch didn’t have a whole lot to do for the 0700-1300 watch so we hung out on the quarterdeck and drew things like the elegant pedestrian bridge that in its beauty and openness provided, perhaps, a metaphor for the warm welcome we received in Samana.

Today we got to loudly proclaim the super sailor-y words ‘land ho!’ as we spotted Raoul off our starboard bow. Raoul marks our turning point for the two-week trek to Napier via the Kermadecs and possibly the only time we’ll see land during that time. The feelings on board can only be described as mixed.

We’ve whipped our way out of Bermuda, wearing a little extra paint off of our starboard side from the steady port tack. After sailing for the last four days set for maximum sail area, the trip towards the coast has been pushing a zesty seven or eight knots. After taking our stop ashore and watching the little island of Bermuda fade into the distance, it has strange to take in how familiar and consistent the ocean can sometimes be.

This afternoon we continued sailing through the Virgin Passage as we passed St. Croix, St. Thomas, and St. John. It was a hot 80 degree day with light wind and we were finally able to put up an additional two sails, the fisherman and the jib topsail. Two playful dolphins passed the ship twice throughout the day that circled the ship.