A major issue with our oceans

Yesterday the Sorlandet anchored just outside Lisbon, Portugal. We had an issue with our propeller. A fishing line that was floating about got jammed and the engineer was not able to remove it. Because of this, a tug boat came to meet us and we got towed into dry dock. 

They are going to see what they can do in dry dock but chances are the rudder, which is massive, will need to be removed for them to reach the propeller. This is not too difficult of a task, however, it is time consuming. If the Sorlandet cannot be repaired before our scheduled departure day then we will be taking a bus to Cadiz, Spain and get on the ship there. 

The real shame in all this is that had a fishing vessel been more careful than we could have continued on with our scheduled plans. It was a same in the Azores as well when the boat down the dock from us had a caught a sea turtle in it's net because it wasn't using proper equipment. 

Being out on the ocean has made me realize how often these things do happen it's a shame. It's made me realize that the ocean like the ship is vulnerable and we should try to take care of it because what one does affects many others. I believe it's called the issue of the commons. 

However, on the plus side it is an opportunity to see the Sorlandet out of the water which is really interesting and quite exciting.

Thank You

During the celebration of thanks for our harvests, I thought to myself about what I am thankful for. I’m thankful for my friends and family who have supported me, especially my parents. I’m thankful for my fellow sailors both at home and aboard the Sᴓrlandet. I’m thankful for everyone who has supported me financially and on an emotional level. I’m thankful for those who choose to read my blog because it gives me reason to record my life aboard the ship and to share my experiences.  But, most of all I am thankful for the teachers in my life; the people who have taught me manners, taught me how to read and how to write, how to act in public, how to hold myself, and how to appreciate every moment. So, if there is anybody reading this who I mentioned above, I hope you know that I’m thankful for all you have done to help me. I most definitely would not be typing these words in a Portuguese café if you hadn’t supported me. Thank you.

I’m Thankful for…

Thanksgiving aboard the Sᴓrlandet took place today. Of course classes ran as normal, but the feeling of family, friends, laughter, and an autumn breeze stirred across the ship. The face of almost everyone was lit up with joy. Best of all, however, was the little things, and some major things, that truly made it a thanksgiving to remember.

Maritime Studies, a daily class on seamanship, was mandatory for all students today and I dreaded this at first. I kept thinking that it’s Thanksgiving, why can’t they give us the day off? However, pro crew had some tricks up their sleeves and we played a massive game of tug-of-war which bent around every corner of the deck. Rope over 250 feet wound its way through blocks and crisscrossed the masts. It was a true family event. Our crew was split in two and we strategized like crazy. Secret code was shouted down the line and certain words had us hitting the deck faster than most can make-fast a line (tie a line around a wooden peg). The team I was on unfortunately lost, but it didn’t matter too much because we did to break two stoppers (very thick line) simultaneously.

The banjer was adorned with hand prints and messages which spread our thanks. Family dinner (dinner where maritime, academic, and student crew eat together) included turkey, stuffing, yams, carrots, potatoes, and best of all the freshly baked pumpkin pie! Leftovers were plentiful so I helped myself to at least 3 slices of pie and slept for 7 hours straight. Overall, it was a wondrous occasion which left us students counting down the days until American Thanksgiving. 

The Land Between North America and Europe

Horta, Azores. The perpetual summer has finally begun. T-shirts, shorts and tank tops came out of the sea chest and spring cleaning took place in the banjer, crew mess, saloon and personal spaces. The Azores was an amazing sight. It was the first time I had ever stepped foot in Europe and I couldn’t dare explain the emotion that came with this in fear I mightn’t do it justice. A bit extreme perhaps, but it was truly amazing. From hidden cafes and egg tarts to cobble stone alleyways and a massive beach in the cove, I explored it all.

The people of the Azores were beyond friendly. One local gave a tour of his city and introduced students into his home. Another invited some French speaking students for lunch. When the Sorlandet visited Horta in 2010, students left behind a message in the local pizzeria and the owner was generous enough to share his letter with us. It was a great way to connect with the past Class Afloat crew. And, to leave our legacy a mural, situated on the docks, was painted.

Most extraordinary, however, would have to be the 50 year old land that was part of our port program. I spent an hour walking along the sands and feeling the warmth of the ground. It was amazing to witness and feel something that is so new to the world. I kept thinking to myself that what I’m stepping on was an ocean half a century ago. To learn more about why were able to step foot on such young land, a pair of guides with spectacular personalities, took us on a hike to the summit of the volcano. Through bush and boulders we reached the top. It was too foggy to see the ocean anymore but just being able to see into the crater drew excitement from me. I surprised some when I screamed out to the world, but in all honesty, how could I contain myself.

The Azores were amazing. I loved every aspect of it and have not much at all to put down. People were friendly, food was good, scenery was out-of-this-world, and the crew always kept a positive mind. How could we not? It was the first stop after being at sea for two weeks. 

10 Things about the Atlantic crossing that I didn’t Think Would Be a Problem or I didn’t Think would occur, but They Did:

1.       Textbooks flying across the room.

2.       Trying to eat without spilling everywhere.

3.       Cleaning dishes in the galley, and avoiding any more casualties. Total personal count: 1 swollen ankle (hotel pans are painful), 1 sliced finger, 1 burned hand, and 2 bruised shoulders.

4.       Keeping the number of bruises I had under control.

5.       Sleeping.

6.       Having a shower without falling over or sliding from one end of the heads (washrooms) to the other.

7.       Drain pipes getting clogged and creating a stench in the banjer (sleeping, eating, working area) that lasted two weeks.

8.       Rolling out of bed when the ship pitches to port (right).

9.       Keeping clean. It’s such a struggle to find time for a shower and to do laundry.

10.   Getting dressed for watch and relieving physicals (helm, standby, look out, and safety rounds) on time. I had to find my foulies (foul weather gear), harness, rubber boots, and warm clothes.

First Atlantic Crossing

Nothing is better than life at sea! Just after coming off the continental plate the rainstorm had died. A rainbow, reflected from the sunset, showed its full colours. Bioluminescent lit up the ocean as we disturbed it with our presence. From 0.5 to 11.2 nautical miles through the water, the Sᴓrlandet picked up its pace. Wave after wave the ship rocked fore and aft. Until swells came along, safety lines went up, and a sleeping standby watch was put in place. The excitement was riveting and our adventure, it seemed, had finally started.

September 23^rd                              

Seasickness, nausea, and a spinning head for the past three days! I had the unfortunate luck of being in the top three for most seasick. No matter what I did, every moment I was working harder than ever to divert my attention from the rolling boat. The worst part was the fact that we weren’t even moving. The ship had only reached a speed of, at the most, four nautical miles. Funnels are located all over the Sᴓrlandet and I got quite familiar with each and every one of them. It was catch-22 because they say that the more you eat and the more you keep hydrated the less nauseous you will be, but every time I sat down for a meal I was forced to get right back up and head for the funnels.

September 25^th  

I’m over seasickness now and the best part is that I made it without any aids! Today the rolling ship is barely noticeable. Only moving at three or four knots through the water leaves plenty of time to work on deck. Sand paper has become my new best friend and I rarely have time away from it. However, it does leave my home looking much better.

September 26^th

The wind has finally picked up and we’re really starting to move.  Thirty knots is due for tonight. Coming off the continental plate the wind has been quite shifty. A large sail boat, such as the Sᴓrlandet, is incapable of a drastic course change unless the sails have been brought in, and to do this fast requires the hands of everyone. For the first time in three years the Captain has called not one but two “all hands”. This means that everyone, regardless of whether they are sleeping, in class, in study hall or eating, must report immediately to deck. Due to the shifty winds a sleeping stand-by has been created. Half our crew must sleep with harnesses by our bed side and in the case of an emergency we will be required to climb aloft. It’s an exciting prospect but whether or not our sleeping standby gets called on is a wonder. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Fingers crossed though.

September 26^th

Today also brought rainbows galore. I was standing lookout at the time and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was marvelous to see such a beautiful aspect of our planet. The rainbow had a double arc that formed a flawless semi-circle. Even the captain thought it was something out of the ordinary because he made an announcement over the PA system and brought out his camera. As the sun began to set the rainbow faded away and the depressing rainstorm returned, but that one moment made my entire three-hour watch worthwhile.

September 27^th

I have realised how powerful the ocean is and how vulnerable I am among its waves and currents. The weather has held and the Sᴓrlandet continues to move a constant 10-12 nautical miles. The swells, however, have grown and it is now mandatory for everyone to be dressed in full foulies (foul weather gear) as well as a harness. Even the buddy system has been introduced. Everyone must be partnered up when they do safety rounds of the boat. Nobody is allowed on the foredeck at night, and the entire watch has to remain on the aft deck once the sun has set.

I felt quite at peace with the rolling swells and was enjoying hanging over the rails feeling invincible. It wasn’t until night watch that I realised you can never be in total comfort on the ocean, if so something must be wrong.

John, the chief mate on the Sᴓrlandet, was relaying a story to our watch of his experience in the Bounty ship wreck during a hurricane a couple years ago. He talked about what it felt like to be stranded in the middle of a storm with nothing to hold on to and no one to keep you company; how the giant swells swept him from one place to another and how it was a strobe light that saved his life. When the Bounty was struck the crew became separated and John was forced into exhile. He swam for nearly five hours towards a strobe light and waited to see if anyone would come. Fortunately, someone set up their search around that single strobe and it was because of their decision to do so that John is now a chief mate to my crew. The way he told us the story, it was obvious how little of that night has been forgotten in his mind and it made me realise that while I might feel invincible, the ocean is a lot stronger than I first perceived it to be.

September 29^th

Today has been the hardest day of my entire voyage aboard the Sᴓrlandet. It has been physically and mentally exhausting. I really had to dig deep just to make it through until bed. One aspect of Class Afloat that is often left out of the equation is the lack of sleep and free time. Classes take up five hours out of the day. There is four hours of deck watch, one hour of cleaning, on average two hours of homework, and whatever time is left over is either given to meals or idle hands calls. Wake ups are done at seven o’clock, and I never get to bed before midnight. While I enjoy my time aboard, every little thing had eventually boiled up inside and I reached my breaking point. I couldn’t do it anymore! The books in class slide off the tables every few minutes, loud crashes and bangs from the pantry disturb sleep, homework overload catches up with me, idle hands calls leave my arms feeling like jelly, the port holes leak water all over my laptop, and worst of all I was vomiting every meal into the funnels. I had enough! I had let the little things get to me and I was now paying the price. Fortunately, one is never alone when the living space is shared by forty, and a couple friends just talked me through it all and comforted me, because no matter how tough things get, sometimes you just need to cry. I’m better now that it’s over. I’ve realised were only three days from the Azores so it has become a little bit easier to cope, but don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love sailing!

October 1^st

Finally we’re under full sail power. Every piece of fabric we have is attached to a yard and the wind has been captured. 11 nautical miles through the water and spiking to 12.5, it has been a goal of the crew to be under full sail and now that it’s happening we are all on the edge of our seats with excitement. I had the glory of being one in four to set the fore royal. Climbing to the top of the mast is frightening. There are no safety lines that I can hook into when I climb and very little room for error. One slipup and I’m as good as dead.

Being up that high becomes surreal. It feels as if I’m dreaming and the only person who exists in the entire world is I. As the boat sways side to side I hold on for dear life praying that I can make it back down safe and sound. The people on deck, my peers, are mere ants to me; I’m infinite and superior and feel as though I hold all the power. The mast and the yards try with extreme effort to through me off but I keep a firm grip. Within the hour the sail is furled and I have conquered my fears! It’s time to climb down the shrouds. I eventually reach the deck and because of the effort four of us put in, the Sᴓrlandet has picked up its pace. We’re now averaging 12. The royal really is a place that contains some magic. I can’t wait until the next time I can climb sky high. Hopefully it’s soon!

October 2^nd

First sighting of land! I woke up early this morning to go to the heads (washrooms), and on port (left side) there was the Azores.  After no sight of land for two weeks it was a wonderful surprise. Everyone was full excitement and the prospect of arriving three days early led rumors to be created and spread all across our banjer. Will we be able to dock early? Does this mean that there’s no Chemistry test? Is our port programming tonight? What’s the port activity? And so and so forth.