Location: V&A Waterfront, Cape Town, South Africa
My first time as skipper on Argo was at the V&A Waterfront on January 16th, 2020. Today is (most likely) my last.
Today began with an early wake up – 6:30 so that we could eat breakfast before switching places with another large sailing yacht to occupy the dock that would become Argo’s home for the next month or so. Lemme tell ya, this is prime real estate. We have become one of the top tourist attractions in the V&A Waterfront and likely the background of many South African family Christmas cards. Sure, they’re probably trying to get Table Mountain in the photo, but there we are, just in front – doing squeeze, or dishy pit, or singing the announcements song (quietly).
We docked for the first time (with the help of the “gentle touch” of a tugboat) in the shipyard in Mauritius. Then, it was stressful and overwhelming for most to manage their lines and fenders and heed all of the calls from Tomer, Gabe, or enthusiastic Mauritian dock workers. Today, it was a casual activity done over breakfast. The calls of “Take,” “Slac,k” “Ease,” “Hold,” and “Make” are heard and reacted to. Argo gracefully slips off of one dock and onto the next – with only minor fanfare (before leaving, Bodhi slipped in his gymnastic dismount from the boat to the dock and splashed with the seals momentarily).
There was no time to settle into our new berth – myself, Kackie, and the students were off on our first adventure of the day – Sandboarding! There’s a geological mystery (to me, I’m sure Google could explain it) resulting in a stretch of sand dunes in the middle of the plains outside of Cape Town, known as the Atlantis Dunes National Park. You can hike and explore them, search for Timothee Chalamet, ride on an ATV, or for those as brave as us, you can hop in a jeep and drive deep into the dunes, strap on a snowboard, and hit the slopes.
In two groups, we piled into the back of Dylan’s truck and set out for the dunes. I was in the second group, and while we waited for the truck to return, Charlie decided to get a coffee from the cafe nearby. There were no lids. To Charlie’s dismay, the truck was back almost immediately. Charlie’s famous last words “I hope this isn’t bumpy I don’t want my coffee to spill” were lost to the breeze as Dylan, our guide, launched over the first dune at a clip and came bumping down the other side. Philip, Travis, Kackie, and I looked over at Charlie, now covered in coffee and still trying to take sips between the bumps, and we all broke down laughing. Sandboarding was full of three things, the first two usually hand in hand – laughing, wipeouts, and sand. We started on the bunny hill, and many of us were quickly humbled by a fearless 3-year-old girl and 9-year-old boy, and then we progressed to the big leagues. A dune whose steepness is disappointingly not represented in photos. We were scared. Bodhi successfully made it down first, followed by Kackie, Philip, and myself. We cheered on Charlie from the bottom, who met our cheers with a request to “stop talking. I’m so scared right now”.
We tried to get Drazka to switch to the big hill and she said “in our dreams”. Ava sent it down the dune and then led us back up it in the march, pointing to Table Mountain in the background to remind us of our afternoon plans. After getting our legs under us, we all eventually switched to the big dune – some on boards, others on sleds, and some joining Dylan for the ride down in the truck (which sounds like the tamest option, but Dylan is a professional dune racer and was going crazy in that thing). We all ate it once or twice – some of our falls, unfortunately, were on camera. Thanks, Bodhi. Charlie got up with a face full of sand and said – my teeth will never be this long again. It was a super exhilarating and funny morning – between racing on the sleds, learning to carve and jump, taking sweet dune photos, or just bombing it down the steep hill, everyone’s sand-encrusted smiles were plastered across their faces. I will include pictures I took, but I am hoping to track down Bodhi’s, which are waaaay better.
We returned to the V&A and decided to all get lunch together at Time Out Market, a food hall with some of the best restaurants in Cape Town, all under one roof. We snagged a long table and shared different snacks. Then, the students were headed off again, this time with Gabe, Ben, and Will, to hike to the top of Table Mountain up Platteklip Gorge. I didn’t go, but I did do the hike last year, so a quick summary: for 80% of the hike, you aren’t convinced you’ll ever reach the top. Then you enter the gorge, get a break from the heat, and start taking in the views; all is forgotten. At the top, there are some of the sweetest views of Cape Town and beyond (as well as a much-deserved ice cream). The students made it up there for sunset before coming back down and back to the boat for a dinner of lentil soup (it is quite chilly at night) and some well-needed rest and chill time on board. I was plagued all day with what my last squeeze question should be – and couldn’t think of anything groundbreaking, so I went with one that brought loads of funny stories the last time it was asked – “What is the weirdest job you’ve ever worked?” The answers did not disappoint. I also broke my own rule of one appreciation a day to rip a final “Rapid Fire Appreciations,” where the whole day was so good your appreciation turns into a recap of everything that happened, even if everyone at squeeze was also present.
As everyone’s final blogs have geared you up for this point, let’s get sentimental.
While the students were hiking, I was finishing up grading the last of their final papers for Leadership class – a reflection on how this trip has changed them and their plans to bring what they’ve learned home with them. I found myself tearing up, reading the accounts of how each student has seen themselves grow and change over the course of the trip, having noticed many of the changes in them myself. It is so rare to feel that you have had the opportunity to make an impact on someone’s life, and being able to be a part of this community and experience is incredibly rewarding, as I was reminded today. From the sappiest and most sentimental moments – to trying to create new terms of endearment with the suffix “toid”, it’s been a trip. I am so proud of each of these students for all that they have achieved in 87 short days, and I know this is just the beginning for each of them. I know that because I was one of them, and in the Spring of 2020, going home mid-trip due to Covid, on my last student skipper day, I wrote the following:
“It feels like our time on Argo is drifting away from me, out of my grasp. But I know that’s not true. Whether we know or feel it now, we’ve all been changed by this trip, and we’ll carry pieces of it with us wherever we go. Going forward, whatever we’re dealing with, big or small, we can each think to ourselves, “I crossed a whole ocean. Surely I can tackle this!” and I think that is really freeing.
The only thing that is comforting to me now is to think of how seemingly random the cards were stacked right before they unfolded the way they did. How many near misses have you had that could have stopped you from coming on this trip, and how many happy accidents ensured that you were on it? We need to remind ourselves of how unexpectedly we found this thing that ended up changing our lives. That brought you to a place full of people that you couldn’t dream up if you tried and to situations that you never would have pictured yourself experiencing. Accompanying both of these things are feelings you can’t really describe and are unsure if you will ever experience again. It’s truly rare and amazing to experience something that you start to miss before you’re even done experiencing it. It makes us want to dig into it as deep as we can, in hopes that some of it gets stuck underneath our nails, and certainly, our time on Argo has. But we can’t live our lives mourning what we’ve done. We must not let this become our greatest adventure. This is only the beginning for us, and we must look excitedly to the horizon to use what Argo has taught us to steer constantly towards the fearful and unknown because the best moments, the next unexpected joys, all lie on the other side of fear.
I’m forever grateful for the time we had, the ocean we crossed, and the memories we made. I feel a bit of solace in the unfinished feeling in my stomach and a sense of security that I know I’ll be back on Argo one day.”
20-year-old, I was right – I would be back in Argo one day, that day being September of this year, getting ready to greet 12 new students in Bali. Argo has changed my life for the better – bringing me some of my greatest friends and most cherished memories, and now eight groups of strangers turned families. I’m eternally grateful for the YouTube “You May Like” video recommendation that brought me here. I deferred to my 20-year-old self for wisdom because if my 25-year-old self started writing out how I felt right now, the family on the dock’s photo op would be ruined by me crying in the background.
What I’ve learned and how I’ve changed in my time here would turn this already self-indulgent novella into a Dostoyevsky. But in short, it’s the people. It’s always the people. I will do anything in my power to stay in the company of people as extraordinary as those I’ve met here.
Onto the next great adventure. See you out there.