Life moves and all too often life gets in the way. Yesterday's passion gives way to today's casual fascination only to be supplanted by tomorrow's "must do". Yes, bucket lists are great in theory but harder to manage in real time - especially in this day and age of information overload. Regardless, if I had a bucket list, crossing the Atlantic by ship would be somewhere near the top.
The seeds of this endeavor were likely planted decades past when I first heard about Christopher Columbus in grade school. Presentations of the 1950's were largely positive while the consequences, both intended and otherwise, of the Admirals feats were left for discussion in another time and place. So it shall be here. Simply, the Niña and the Pinta were three masted caravel-type vessels built for speed with triangular sails while the Santa Maria was a larger, four-masted carrack-type vessel with square sails. Depictions of those ships riding the high seas in search of new trade routes captured a piece of my youthful imagination. Just recently I learned that Columbus actually embarked on four explorations - traversing the Atlantic eight times. [1]
Sometime later in life I was introduced to my grandparents by stories related by various family relatives. Unfortunately, those narratives were bare of any details regarding the journeys themselves as my ancestors set out from their native Sweden. Surely, they crossed the Atlantic by ship but the ways and means of that journey are unknown. Was their vessel of immigration wooden or iron? Powered by wind or steam, the product of burning coal? Did they pay passage or was labor their primary currency of barter? Questions unanswered and sources of intrigue becoming more and more compelling with each passing year.
And so it came to pass that Jamie and I boarded the Viking Star [2] on the morning of March 21, 2023. Our journey would begin in Fort Lauderdale, Florida and terminate in Barcelona, Spain with stops along the way at Philipsburg, Sint Maarten and Funchal, Madeira, Portugal. [3] A passage far different than the odysseys experienced by those who went before me. Voyages completely dissimilar in terms of method, mode, and fashion yet common in two unyielding truths - sea and sky.
Yes, the sea is vast. Far larger than I have ever imagined. The same applies to the heavens. No words give them justice. At some level they scare me and in truth, always have. Only now the fear is rooted in greater understanding rather than imagination.
In that fear I have a new found appreciation for those who ventured before me. Assuredly, our forbearers possessed not only their unique set of personal hopes and dreams but endured individual fears and misgivings as well. Yet they persevered and now, by the Grace of God, we find ourselves in a place that our ancestors could never have foreseen. And we in turn are never fully able to comprehend the people they were. Suffice to say we owe them a debt of thanks - if only to be paid in kind to those who will come after us. Those who will ponder the sea and the sky with a humbled sense of gratitude just as those who went before us undoubtedly did from the decks of their vessels. Each individual unique in their time yet connected to untold generations by forces far beyond human conception.
As ships passing in the night.
Sights along the way:
ROLLERS
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| The earthshine was beautiful but lost among the pixelation. |
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| Leaving the New World behind. |
easterlies howl "no"
master plots a course northeast
westerlies induce
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| Suksessterte (Success Cake) Pure heaven in every bite. |
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| Flowers were the predominant feature at Funchal. The aroma permeated the deck even as we docked. |
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| Funchal front yard. The dog's confident demeanor produced the only portrait worth posting from the whole trip. |
SMILES
morning! name attached
vibrance meets dimming eyesight
no bad days at sea
THE DOLDRUMS
always an ocean
restless sleep beneath silk sheets
never quite a pond
CALORIES
finish your spinach
Chinese children are starving
the abundance screams
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| Looking back towards Tangier with Mars overhead as we split the continents at midnight. |
school day icon looms
whats that on the horizon?
disappointment rains
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| A small portion of the Port of Barcelona. I liked the colors. |
[1]
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| Yes, I plagiarized this map off the internet. The routes are estimations based on the Admirals logs. |
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| Our route as captured realtime by the magic of GPS and other technologies of which I am completely ignorant. The image was displayed on the TV screen in our cabin at the touch of a button. |
Once during my high school years Uncle Gus came to visit us in Spokane, Wa. He was alone, on business, and had driven all day from Tacoma. At supper my Mother asked how the drive had gone. He replied that it had been long, hot, and tedious but the radio had blared a new song again and again which had kept him awake. Always the ham, he then proceeded to belt out his own rendition...."Coo coo ca-choo Mrs Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know....". He could always make me laugh.
One evening onboard we were listening to Allan, the ship's acoustic guitarist, and he did a set of old Simon and Garfunkel tunes. Mrs Robinson was among them. A passing memory stirred pen to paper along with tears and a smile.
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