At Sea
Today began with a spectacular green flash (not shown) at sunrise over the Western Mediterranean. This evening we watched the sun set over Spain just south of Alicante. It is common to hear mariners say that we go to sea for the sunrises and sunsets. They indeed beautifully bracket our days at sea, and on days such as this one, where we cruise all day without a stop, they also delimit our horizon and our small shipboard world. The ritual of watching for the green flash at sunrise, anticipating exactly where the sun will rise on the horizon is an exercise in faith and hope. The evening vigil, watching the horizon for clouds which will interfere with the green flash, is an exercise in perseverance and acceptance of reality. All these are useful tools for the mariner. Everything in between, the wind and the weather, the tides and the currents, the calms and the storms come as they will to ships at sea and to those who sail them. To experience them is to connect us with the generations of sailors who have sailed these waters and watched these things present themselves through the ages. This entire voyage has been one of finding connections between ourselves and those who have sailed here in the distant past: from the Neolithic peoples on their short voyages offshore, to the Phoenicians who managed to develop trading relationships all over the Mediterranean, to the Greeks and the Romans who built their empires on these shores, to the Venetians, the Genoese, the Moors, the Spanish, and finally, to those who live here today. As we come to the end of this “Epic Voyage,” a day at sea provides a welcome opportunity to reflect, digest, and absorb all that we have seen and heard.
Today began with a spectacular green flash (not shown) at sunrise over the Western Mediterranean. This evening we watched the sun set over Spain just south of Alicante. It is common to hear mariners say that we go to sea for the sunrises and sunsets. They indeed beautifully bracket our days at sea, and on days such as this one, where we cruise all day without a stop, they also delimit our horizon and our small shipboard world. The ritual of watching for the green flash at sunrise, anticipating exactly where the sun will rise on the horizon is an exercise in faith and hope. The evening vigil, watching the horizon for clouds which will interfere with the green flash, is an exercise in perseverance and acceptance of reality. All these are useful tools for the mariner. Everything in between, the wind and the weather, the tides and the currents, the calms and the storms come as they will to ships at sea and to those who sail them. To experience them is to connect us with the generations of sailors who have sailed these waters and watched these things present themselves through the ages. This entire voyage has been one of finding connections between ourselves and those who have sailed here in the distant past: from the Neolithic peoples on their short voyages offshore, to the Phoenicians who managed to develop trading relationships all over the Mediterranean, to the Greeks and the Romans who built their empires on these shores, to the Venetians, the Genoese, the Moors, the Spanish, and finally, to those who live here today. As we come to the end of this “Epic Voyage,” a day at sea provides a welcome opportunity to reflect, digest, and absorb all that we have seen and heard.
