Location: Grand Cayman
I would love to say that our days begin when we first wake up, but when underway, it’s a different story. With 3 hours on watch and 6 hours off, the days occasionally begin to blur together. Today, however, was not that way. The clock had just hit midnight when I fell out of my bunk. As I fell into the engine room door and Steve flew sideways out of his room, I knew day 50 would not slip through the cracks. The thing about heeled-over boats is that you know you have gravity somewhere, but you don’t know where it is. Occasionally, that means holding onto a wall so as not to fall over. This was already turning into one of those days. I had gone to sleep pondering whether the tranquility of our sail thus far was a good thing or not, but upon waking mid-launch out of my bunk, I decided that the occasional tranquility need not be taken for granted. However, as I stumbled onto the deck, clamored to clip into the jack lines, and take post next to Steve, I marveled at our transformed crew. With cold rain, a sideways boat, and absolutely no hope of an upright stance, our once green-faced crew had transformed into capable sailors. Even the most seasick of folk had become leaders. Two watch teams worked harmoniously to bring down two sails, secure the lines, and maintain a constant watch for each other and Argo. It was one of my favorite moments of this trip when, as a teacher, you realize that people have grasped the big picture. We continued to make way with a good time and arrived in beautiful Grand Cayman to enjoy the bright blue-green water and some extra time to finish assignments and gather peace of mind. At the end of the day, I realize that while tranquility need not be taken for granted, it is the unexpected turns of gravity that make up the best stories and that the best stories are what make this trip.