Be Careful What You Wish For

"Be careful what you wish for."  So said the Croatian Captain when I told him I wanted to experience some waves.  Little did I know that a typhoon was swirling nearby -- right in the middle of our path from Hawaii to Japan. Wisely, the captain changed our course to go around it. (Semester at Sea has learned a few things since the disastrous storm they encountered off the coast of Alaska years ago.  Google it for video.)  But even though we went around it, we skirted the edge of the typhoon, and that night, we finally got the waves I was hoping for. Twenty foot seas kept us up all night, and we rose and fell as if on a carnival ride.  From time to time, the ship would crash down over the top of a wave, followed by a series of vibrations.  At breakfast the next morning, plates and drinks slid across our outdoor tables. Many of us felt queasy, and I slept it off for a few hours in the afternoon.

Strange things happen at sea.  For instance, we lost January 19th.  Not sure where it went, but we went to bed on Sunday, January 18, and woke up on Tuesday, January 20.  The international dateline seems to be the culprit, but I can't wrap my mind around it.  Another wierd, yet wonderful event at sea -- for the next three nights, we get to set our clocks back one hour.  Three 25-hour days! Things are really getting crazy now.

As you know, the NFL playoffs were last weekend.  My dad knew that we couldn't watch them at sea, and even trying to follow ESPN on the computer wouldn't work with our uber-slow online connection, so he emailed me play-by-play commentary of each of the games in almost real time. We were in the dining room where all the kids of professors and lifelong learners were homeschooling at the time, so I quietly shared the updates with another dad near me. But as the Seattle-Green Bay game heated up, pretty soon we had a whole bunch of people gathered around listening to each update.  When it got down to the last minute, we were sitting on the edge of our seats in the middle of the Pacific waiting to see if Seattle would score... and then waiting to see if GB would tie it up. The room was filled with cheers when it went into overtime!  My dad's going to put all the other tele-type play-by-play commentators right out of business! 

Now I heard that last year a generous parent paid to have the Super Bowl shown on the ship.  Everyone gathered in the Union to watch it together.  I'd love to see that happen this year.  One student in our Shipboard Family elbowed me in the ribs when discussing it.  I think he thinks ought to be that generous parent.  I'd rather just pass a hat and see if we get enough bucks.  After all, the Redskins aren't playing.

Now that the waves are calmer, I'll share some thoughts I have had along the voyage about the seas.  King David once said, "The voice of the Lord is over the waters."  David never went on Semester at Sea, but if he ever did, I'm sure he would hear God's voice out here. Rising and falling with the swells is like being in a giant dance with the Creator leading you.  Like reading a poem written with water and waves instead of words.  

Even the sky gets in on the action.  Yesterday, we saw a strange, beautiful, vertical rainbow.  As David also wrote, "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech." God has initiated a divine conversation with us through nature.  He is speaking loud and clear.  I am listening.


Interestingly, one thing never changes at sea. The skies change, the waves change, the colors change, the clouds change, but always, no matter what, the horizon stays the same.  It is a constant in an ever-shifting tableau.  A reminder that God is my unchanging anchor.  My horizon at sea.

5 days till sushi in Japan.

Mail at Sea

Bonus points go out to Ellen, Rob, Charlie, and Douglas Pitera for sending a hand-colored card to us in Hawaii. And for the record, Charlie Pitera, we don't have to go to the bathroom over the edge of the deck. Thankfully.

Hawaii

On Wednesday we got an extra hour of sleep -- one advantage of sailing west. Three days before we got an extra hour too.  If I ever run for president, my platform will include turning the clocks back one hour every three days. I'll surely win.

Yesterday we saw land for the first time in almost a week. First we saw the lights on shore before the sunrise. Then I saw the shape of the Big Island of Hawaii -- solid and green in the misty morning. How welcome its form appeared! A pilot boat whizzed by my window to deliver the harbor pilot to bring us in. By 8:00 we were docked in Hilo.

Alas, we didn't get off until 10:00. That's because the U.S. Customs and Immigration service had to conduct face to face interviews with every person who wanted to disembark. We are a thorough government. 800 people later, we stepped foot on terra firma.

Seven years ago, a friend in Miami called to tell us about her friend, Shirin, who was coming to D.C.  Shirin was from Iran and was trying to get her papers to go back to her country to see her father. She didn't know how long it would take, and she didn't have a place to stay. She ended up staying with us for almost three months. In that time, Shirin became family.

So you can imagine our delight when Shirin, who lives in Hilo, met us at the dock in Hawaii with fragrant yellow leis and took us around the island for the day. We started at a black sand beach where we climbed on the volcanic rocks. Then we picked up the world's most delicious sandwiches and drove to Kilauea, the tallest volcano on earth.  From far off, we saw it smoking and belching sulfur gases. We ran through some steam vents and felt the moist heat, while getting an impromptu facial. 

After a quick trip to Target for provisions for our next 13 days crossing the Pacific, we visited a white sandy beach with lagoons and tidal pools. The kids were splashing in the cold water, spotting colorful fish, crabs, and turtles. Three giant green sea turtles swam right around their feet, munching on algae and even hissing at Charlie. They were magnificent, gentle creatures, and you can't blame them for hissing at Charlie. I probably would too if I were a turtle.

Then Charlie spotted what he thought was a snake. But as you know, there are no snakes in Hawaii. It was actually an eel! The kids named it Luigi, and  Austin shared some of his turkey sandwich with him. Luigi wasn't interested. Just then another eel named Mario, who was about 4 times bigger than Luigi, slithered out of another rock! We thought he would go for the sandwich, but instead he slid over to Luigi who darted into his rock . We never saw Luigi again.  We think this was a blatant, tragic case of eel cannibalism. As Kerry noted, "If you're an eel, another eel is the perfect meal. It just slides right down."

Finally it was time to say goodbye. We hugged Shirin, then made our way back to the ship, careful not to be late. For every 15 minutes you are late, you have to stay on the ship an extra two hours at disembarkation time in the next port. I'm told it can be quite a show watching people run back to the ship as dock time approaches.

Back to ship life until Japan...

Pictures from the ship

At Home

Today was the first day I felt like I was home. Maybe it's because when I went outside, a blast of warm, moist air met me at the door.  For a Miami girl, that feels like home. Every nautical mile, we're getting closer to Hawaii. Even the water -- sometimes grey, sometimes navy -- looks brighter and more cobalt.

 

Yesterday the seas were choppier than usual. White caps rode the waves, and the wind was up. Interestingly, though, the ship didn't pitch and roll as much as when the sea was calmer but with bigger swells. 

 

I've got my sea legs now. I hardly notice the constant motion, the times we walk side to side in the halls as the ship tilts, the way we engage our core to stay straight and not spill our drinks in the dining hall. This lifestyle is becoming second nature. I keep forgetting we're going to get off the ship and visit countries!!

 

Ship life has a rhythm to it. Every morning Kerry and I work out in the tiny gym. I'm always amazed at the number of people exercising before dawn. There is a real culture of fitness on the boat.  A group of us have started a 7-minute workout by the pool in addition to our other exercise.

 

At breakfast as a reward for working out, we choose from omelets, French toast, bacon, pain au chocolate, fresh fruit, yogurt, oatmeal, bagels, and juice. We eat out on the back deck overlooking the frothy turquoise ribbon of the ship's wake. I shudder to think how we will cope with going back to cold cereal at our kitchen table.

 

After schooling in the morning, there is free time in the afternoon. Yesterday the kids made a grand discovery-- a girl from the national Ping Pong Team of Colombia is on board!!! There was great rejoicing. Maria is on a ping pong scholarship in the US. (Who knew?) Austin is overjoyed and hopes to have many ping pong clinics.

 

Last night (Sunday) we had a church service for anyone who was interested. About 10% of the students showed up. An Econ professor who is also a minister spoke. Next time they hope to have some guitars and other music.

 

At 9:00 pm, we had trivia night in the big "Union" room. About 400 students showed up. We divided into teams of 8-10 and answered trivia questions about sports, entertainment, etc. Do you know the name of Don Quixote's horse? We didn't. Do you know Taylor Swift's middle name? We didn't. Do you know the 7 seas? We missed the Arabian. Needless to say, our team (the Sailing Tacos) didn't win.

 

Today we had a student from University of Alabama help tutor Sydney and Charlie in physics because I didn't understand the chapter in their physical science book. This girl was a physics major hoping to teach high school, and she did a bang up job. Even I understood! After the kids were done, she said, "I'm from Alabama, and we say, 'Roll Tide.'"  Without missing a beat, Charlie looked at her and said, "We say, 'War Eagle.'"  That's for you, Evans Rice. :)

Day after tomorrow is Hilo, Hawaii.  First land in 6 days.  

 

At Sea

It's 5:45 a.m., and I am awake.  The ship is rolling around in the seas.  We rock in our beds -- head to toe, head to toe.  It's fluid motion, almost like being in a giant rocking chair.  Sometimes it feels like we're on a plane coming in for a landing.  You feel the heavviness, then almost weightlessness.  If feels like the  ocean is a living, breathing being... a giant blue dragon whose back we're riding.  It's thrilling and beautiful and a bit scary all at once.

We are meeting tons of people.  Students, lifelong learners, professors.  All wonderful, interesting, intentional people.  You don't do this trip by accident.

The food is great.  Lots of fruit and veggies so far, with Indian entrees, soups, fish, even French pastries for dessert yesterday.

Working out on board is fascinating.  Running on an elliptical feels like running and riding a horse at the same time.  You let go of the handholds at your own risk!  When you do the plank exercise, it's an exercise in gravity too.  As the ship goes "down" off a swell, you feel tremenous pressure on your body.  I felt like I weighed 300 pounds.  But then, you go "up," and for a moment you're weightless!  It makes planking much more interesting!

The kids have already made friends.  Charlie played basketball yesterday till he fell into bed.  Austin is beating the professors at ping pong.  When I told Sydney I had to go to the computer lab, she said, "Oh, we have friends there!"  The kids already run the ship. I come back to their room and find them sitting around eating goldfish and listening to Taylor Swift with their friends.  It's like Happy Hour in there.

Sunrise yesterday was truly a religious experience.  I was on the elliptical machine looking out at the sea, and at 7:00 I ran outside just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, lighting the clouds in every direction.  The ocean was like glass.  You could have water skiied on it.  The sun, water, open expanse, all of it was breathtaking.  I almost wept.  I just talked to God right there at the ship's rail and worshipped.  Truly gave him my heart as I stood in awe of his majesty, beauty, and power.  I am so small.

Today began the first day of school.  We gathered in the dinig room with about 15 other families schooling our kids while the mighty Pacific rolls outside the window.  We roll too as we do math, science, history.  Not a bad schoolroom if you ask me.

So far Semester at Sea has far exceeded my expectations... and they were already pretty high!

Note: We do not get regular internet access at sea.  We have a few hours total for the whole voyage, and it's extremely slow.  If you need to contact us, this email usually works: michelle.knott.sp15@semesteratsea.org

Here we go

 The past 2 days have been a whirlwind of excitement and fun. We explored San Diego yesterday and loved it. Met an airline pilot/surfer on the beach who gave us the grand welcome, met Bill, the sandcastle man, who builds award -winning castles, ate delicious Mexican food, and spent the evening with dear friends who drove down from Encinitas.  

Today we woke up early and went to the bus loading area with hundreds of other students, parents, and lifelong learners.  TV crews were interviewing people. If you could have bottled the energy in that place you could power the whole country! We were nervous, excited, scared, thrilled, overwhelmed, bewildered, and overjoyed all at once.

We boarded the buses and headed to the border with Mexico. 

Once in Ensenada, we boarded the ship! I almost wept with delight. We checked into our rooms and went to lunch where a seagull promptly grabbed Charlie's roll! We've already met incredible people. And  I can't wait to meet everyone else! The kids have already made friends too -- a huge answer to prayer. 

Heading to the lifeboat drill so I'll keep this short!