Hi there! While the fore deck has become a waterpark ride, I am here to talk to you about something very important but not at all glamorous: being clean!

Hello from the middle of the ocean! Clearly we’ve been here for some time, but every time I walk on deck to realize we’re surrounded 360 degrees by only ocean, it hits different. You would think that I’d have my sea legs by now, but it still feels like every ladder I climb is fighting me and winning.

Today I was the birthday junior junior watch officer, as the plebs (or students) say. Officially, the title is junior watch officer, shadowing phase, but since it was my birthday and we like to get creative on the Robert C. Seamans, I was crowned the birthday junior junior watch officer (B-J-JWO).

(First and foremost: Happy birthday, Mom! I love and miss you so much!)

As the sun sets on day 32 of our voyage, I thought it was time to share some things I’ve learned (32 to be exact) while at sea that would be important information to anyone, oceanically inclined or otherwise.

Hello again mateys! Everything has been going well in Suva, Fiji and we are nearing our last day in this unique city before we begin our last leg towards New Zealand (crazy!).

Yesterday morning began bright and early for A watch, as we stood watch on our short journey into the port of Suva, Fiji. After a brief motor-sail from our anchorage to the mouth of the harbor, we were met by a Fijian pilot who helped guide us through the fringing reef into the safe and sheltered harbor.

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.

“Two turns right!” Allison, our chief mate, shouts.

“Two turns right!” I call out. Grabbing the top spoke of the helm, I rotate the wheel, my hand moving from my shoulders to my ankles to my shoulders and then to my ankles one more time and then the turns are complete, each movement more difficult than the next.

Perched upon the narrow wooden platform, partially up the foremast, I secured myself to the shrouds with my black and gold harness. I dangled my toes over the edge, 40 feet above the surface of the ocean. My harness straps pinched my thighs as I scooted closer to overcautiously grasp the sturdy rigging. I