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Location: Saba

When describing the surroundings on our journey, one cannot help but sound poetic. This is not intentional, just unavoidable. So please, bear with me.
Today was an early start. Beautiful, but early. As soon as the Caribbean stars began to droop in the sky, pale daylight sneakily crept up to usurp the nighttime. For several of Ocean Star’s crew, this is the sight that our sleepy eyes were treated to first thing in the morning. The sun has not yet made an appearance. Quickly and clumsily, we scamper up the hill of Isle Fourchue – our overnight anchorage. We are chasing the sunrise. Upon reaching the top, a warm sea-breeze caresses us. Now all we can do is wait.
Ever so slowly, the sun shyly pokes its head out above the distant blue horizon. The sky takes turns changing colors. Grey to purple, pink to orange and yellow to blue. For the first time in weeks, we all shut up. It is quiet and calm.
The premature departure from our beds has been worth it.
Then it is over. We trudge back down the slope and make our way home. Ocean Star sits alone in the bay. Pretty and Poised. The scent of pancakes wafts out of the galley. After breakfast and cleanup, we prepare for the next stop: Saba. Once again we are off in our own nomadic way.
Saba is unlike most other places we have visited. Its houses teeter precariously atop its steep cliff faces that drop straight into dark blue waters. Still, it remains enchanting. Once settled in, we are faced the terror that had been looming over our heads: our IYT exams. Passing this test would mean that, as a crew, we are officially, no longer incompetent. Failing the test on the other-hand… well, let’s not get into that.
Thankfully we all passed. However, the many stubbed toes and bright red sunburns act as evidence of our initiation. Personally, I am glad of this naivety. The novelty and beauty of this place has not yet worn off and my curiosity only increases with every passing day. I do miss home. But this place and these people are not unlike a certain kind of home. I am happy to wake up at who knows what hour, to do who know what with my fellow crew members.
Last night during anchor-watch, a cloud took the shape of a large eye. The stars made up the eye-cloud’s irises. It seemed to be watching Ocean Star with some degree of interest. There was something strangely comforting this, although it only lasted a few minutes.