At Sea
Today we are on our way from Tristan da Cunha to St. Helena. We have now left the roaring forties and the furious fifties far behind and have entered an entirely different world. After 2 ½ weeks in the Southern Ocean, with its storms and ice and snow, we are in the sub-tropics, crossing latitude 33ºS at noon today. The wind has dropped to a light breeze, the sky is nearly cloudless and the ocean is the deep blue of the central South Atlantic where it is unaffected by land. We had lunch on deck for the first time and in the afternoon the galley served hot dogs and Guinness by the pool in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. We spent most of the day soaking up the sun and watching for wildlife, including a rare Cuvier’s Beaked Whale. In a special sighting during lunch we were visited by a lone wandering albatross, last vestige of the Southern Ocean, while at the same time, a red-billed tropicbird, symbol of the tropics, circled the ship. We watched the albatross for hours and suddenly at about 1500, it began to fly away to the northeast. After it had disappeared from sight, on the very same bearing a ship appeared on the horizon. The albatross had detected the ship’s presence from over twelve miles before it was visible from the deck, and had gone off to investigate. The ship eventually crossed our wake fairly close astern and we were able to talk with the mate on watch. She was the Blackpoint, a tanker sailing from the United Arab Emirates to Brazil. She carried an international crew of Indians, Middle Easterners and Americans. We told her we also carried an international crew of Americans, Philippinos and Europeans and passengers as well from Australia, New Zealand and Venezuela. Whatever the strains and upheavals going on elsewhere, here on the high seas, the oil is moving, we are moving, and people from many nations are working closely together insure safe passage of these ships across the world ocean, because here at sea, we are all alone, and all together.
Today we are on our way from Tristan da Cunha to St. Helena. We have now left the roaring forties and the furious fifties far behind and have entered an entirely different world. After 2 ½ weeks in the Southern Ocean, with its storms and ice and snow, we are in the sub-tropics, crossing latitude 33ºS at noon today. The wind has dropped to a light breeze, the sky is nearly cloudless and the ocean is the deep blue of the central South Atlantic where it is unaffected by land. We had lunch on deck for the first time and in the afternoon the galley served hot dogs and Guinness by the pool in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. We spent most of the day soaking up the sun and watching for wildlife, including a rare Cuvier’s Beaked Whale. In a special sighting during lunch we were visited by a lone wandering albatross, last vestige of the Southern Ocean, while at the same time, a red-billed tropicbird, symbol of the tropics, circled the ship. We watched the albatross for hours and suddenly at about 1500, it began to fly away to the northeast. After it had disappeared from sight, on the very same bearing a ship appeared on the horizon. The albatross had detected the ship’s presence from over twelve miles before it was visible from the deck, and had gone off to investigate. The ship eventually crossed our wake fairly close astern and we were able to talk with the mate on watch. She was the Blackpoint, a tanker sailing from the United Arab Emirates to Brazil. She carried an international crew of Indians, Middle Easterners and Americans. We told her we also carried an international crew of Americans, Philippinos and Europeans and passengers as well from Australia, New Zealand and Venezuela. Whatever the strains and upheavals going on elsewhere, here on the high seas, the oil is moving, we are moving, and people from many nations are working closely together insure safe passage of these ships across the world ocean, because here at sea, we are all alone, and all together.
