Monday the 17th has been so eventful! It started out with an optional yoga session lead by Elliot. The sun started to rise during the session and continued well into breakfast time. It was truly special watching the world awaken; seeing the sky lighten and the mist around the island become more visible and eventually dissipate. This morning was definitely worthy of Ceili’s term of ‘sunrise/sunset appreciation.’

During spring break last year, exactly 9 months ago, I applied to SEA Semester. Right after applying, I distinctly remember procrastinating my school work and reading this blog. I pored over last year’s Global Ocean program entries, going from beginning to the end, blogpost by blogpost, hoping to get insight on what to pack or to prepare for.

I’d like to start this blog post with an excerpt from

“Song of the Open Road,” by Walt Whitman:

We must not stop here
However sweet these laid-up stores
However convenient this dwelling
We cannot remain here
However sheltered this port and
However calm these waters
We must not anchor here
However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us,
We are permitted to receive it but a little while

As we arrive back into the Hauraki Gulf where this trip began, I have been reflecting on helm duty. Since we left the dock in Auckland one month back, I figure I’ve logged well over one full day at the wheel (as has every trainee and intern aboard). For interns, this includes additional stints driving during our daily class and other all-student activity. This short chunk of time is just enough to make me dangerous (if that) – and it has taught a few key lessons.

This past weekend, S-283 enjoyed a long port stay in Napier. While in the area, we continued our Conservation and Management class’s project known as the Human Uses of Ocean Space Consensus. As a part of this, we found that Napier’s port was the most commercial out of the few port stops we have done so far.

Today is the beginning of the end for S-283; we began the last leg of our voyage from Napier to Auckland. It is simultaneously bittersweet and exciting to think about how far we’ve come. This morning, all hands were on deck to help us get underway.

So many times I think that I have reached the peak of an experience and then an opportunity arises that surpasses all expectations. Today, after an early wake up for another delicious breakfast (shout out to Sabrina, our fabulous steward), we headed into Napier once more, and after some brief but much appreciated free time in the morning to grab coffee and pastries and otherwise explore, we were bused to visit the gannet colony out at Cape Kidnappers.

Today was the first day of planned activity in Napier and things on land are already becoming familiar again. When we arrived in port, Captain Rappaport used an analogy during one of our first musters to warn us against falling back in to old habits while we are here.

The wait is over folks, here it is, Mia’s account of the time she licked a man-of-war:

“Biovolume the sample.” I read the question maybe ten times before I start trying to answer it. In front of me there is only a graduated cylinder and a small metal lab spatula. I look around the crowded wet lab, too aware of the two minute timer ticking away somewhere out of sight, knowing that if I don’t biovolume something soon, I’ll have to skip the question entirely.

We’ve been on the ship long enough now that we’re all familiar with the intricate peculiarities of life here. Undoubtedly, one of these peculiarities is communication, in all of its iterations. This is the only place I’ve ever been where repeating what other people say to you back to them becomes a near-comical reflex, popping up even in casual conversation. I am in constant communication with some of my shipmates, namely those on my watch, who I see every time I am awake, without fail.