Location: Carlyle Bay
It all started when I woke up to my strangely quiet alarm a minute after wake-up time. I panicked, “This feels like deja vu,” I thought in my head, seeing as I slept through my alarm the last time I was skipper. Nevertheless, I leaped out of bed and angelically ascended the Tomhole ladder, and ran to wake up my mates.
“Good Morning” by Kanye West was this morning’s wake-up anthem. A fitting name for such an activity. I opened my phone, scrolling through Spotify to find the once-downloaded song. “Where is it!” I exclaimed to my shipmates, who were already awake because I woke up late again. “I have it downloaded, I think,” said Cat, who somehow has every single song ever produced stored on her iPhone. “Thank god,” I thought, seeing as the service out on the open ocean is little to none. Once the song began, it was time to gently nudge those who need sleep to function (unlike 4/5 of the girl’s cabin who run off of coffee/tea alone). Every time the intro to Kanye’s beautifully crafted limerick rang off, “Good Morning!” I would wake another until there were none left.
As most began waking up, I blissfully walked over to the gally and asked Nic, the head chef of the today, what he was cheffing for breakfast. “Yogurt and Granola,” he replied, a balanced breakfast fit for all (except those who lack lactase, a crucial enzyme made in the small intestine, used to process lactose, the primary sugar in milk). Nic then asked where Ethan was, my bunkmate and fellow member of the Tomhole Crew. “This is going to be tough,” I thought because I had said the previous night that I would let the Tomhole sleep in a few extra minutes. Rather than waking him up, however, I assumed control of the melons and was able to help push out breakfast for Nic and Alice, his other sous chef, in a timely manner.
After voraciously tearing up the granola and yogurt, the crew and I prepared to set sail. “Clear the lifelines, everyone!” I exclaimed, and that they did. There was, of course, much more to be done before we could way anchor and set course. All was well, though; we had the whole day to sail. After completely our passage prep, Steve, Calum, and I commanded while the crew topped the booms and set the sails. “Prepare to haul!” I would shout just before a team of three would sweat the main halyard and begin the sail-raising process. Once we raised all three sails, it was time to trim for the course. “I need a team on each sheet!” I commanded. “Make sure to get all the shimmer out of the luff!”
Once the sails were properly trimmed, and the helmsman was aptly prepared to sail for the rest of the day, Nic and his sous chefs began preparing their fish and chicken tacos for lunch. “Am I supposed to scale these? I don’t know how to do that,” Nic said as he pulled his provisioned Red Snapper out of the fridge. “Duh,” Tom said, rolling his eyes and showing Nic how it’s done. Nic, after learning how to scale a fish, prepared an incredible lunch and kept the crew well satiated until dinner.
“Get off your phone!” Calum exclaimed as I was sneakily eeking out the last five minutes of “The Last Dance.” “I guess I am skipper after all,” I thought.
As squall after squall pounded down on our stay’sl, Calum, Steve, and I came to the executive decision that there wasn’t enough wind to warrant the sails staying up anymore. “Prepare to ease!” I shouted once again as teams on the halyard gave slack so that the sails may come down. “Hold!!!” I yelled to Tom as he improperly let go of the main halyard. “Oh, Tom,” I thought, “Gotta love em’.”
Many hours later, we arrive at the beautiful anchorage of Carlyle bay, home to water and trees and sand and stuff. “Let’s snorkel!” I proclaimed to Dylan, Tom, and the rest of the Ray-Team. “Not now, we have seamanship,” chimed Calum. Unfortunately, snorkeling had to wait.” Set the Breton Plotter to 253* true Justin!” said Tom, who only wanted to calculate using Trigonometry. “Already done,” quipped Justin.” No, no no, it’s 263* true, Tom!” barked Dylan, who clearly knew more about charts than all of the rest of us. “Fine,” Justin replied, finally finishing the last problem, granting us access to our beautiful plastic tubes that let us breathe just below the surface.
Ethan showed incredible responsibility today, which was a welcome surprise. Despite having lost his mask, phone, and wallet, he has kept a positive outlook on everything and changed for the better. His dive computer strap broke today, and instead of it joining his other belongings out at sea, he took it off and had been keeping it below deck and in the safe. We are so proud of him!!
After an incredible snorkel over to the nearby reef, Dylan and I came to Phelps-ing back to the boat, prepared to give our elevator pitch to let the crew go night snorkeling to Sydnei, Ash, and Steve. “ok,” Steve said, enthusiastic as always. “I didn’t think today could get any better!” Dylan and I shouted in tandem.
“GOPHERS!!!” yelled Nic from the galley. He had just finished his world-famous Mac’N’Cheese and was ready to present it to all of Ocean Star, including the deck apparently (*cough cough* Graham). Nevertheless, we all munched on some Mac and closed dinner with a squeeze. Sydnei was gifted an entire bread pan of mac’n’cheese for her very self and flattened it in no time flat – to the utter dismay of the entire ship’s company and herself.
“BLAWG BLAWG BLAWG!”, Sydnei screamed in her Chicagoan accent, as she does nightly. And that was the day, a very cliche and usual ending.