Today it is July 21st and its exactly one month since we came on board the Amistad in New Haven. I can’t believe it’s been a whole month so far and half of a month to go! The days do pass surprisingly quickly due to the kind of rotations we have but each task on board seems to take a long time. All of the students have been talking and getting a little anxious on the question of whether we’ll get to London in time for all the ceremonies and celebrations. 

Being at sea is so different from all of that, which is great in many ways but I think for a lot of us, the slow pace getting there can be quite frustrating; b ut there is not much to be done at the moment. We all really want to be there but for me what I’ve been noticing is how I’m torn: I love being here experiencing this different way of life and trying new things and learning, but I miss my family and friends and in some respects, the freedom I had on land, just even to do the simplest things like going for a run! This reminded me of the poem ‘Don’t make me choose’. I think the poet is trying to present suppression both physically and on the state of mind. I’m only speaking of the homesickness among those in a safe college program, but the feelings are still there. Today I was reflecting on school, teachers, the lessons and the time I spend at home, and everything seems like such a different and far away place and time. I keep on wondering whether I’ve changed in some respects but I cant decide…I guess people will just have to tell me when I’m back home…
 
Today, cleaning the hot, small and stuffy galley took so long after the lunch rush (Announcement to everyone I know and love: When I’m done with this I think I’m done with cleaning forever!) and the moment I put the rinsed out sponge down by the sink, I heard “MAN OVERBOARD” coming from deck. My heart jumped out of place and I rushed up to mid-ships. After a moment I found out that it was luckily only a drill but when we did that exercise, each minute felt like a lifetime. I was on sail handling.
The spotter’s job seemed to be one of the hardest and nerve racking as the life ring’s flag dropped off; it was so hard to see it in the water. The scariest thought was if it had been a person or at night.
 
At class today, Logan and Paul did a presentation on the book ‘Two years before the mast’ by giving a brief overview and their reflections. The book is split up into separate diary entries from a man at sea. Logan pointed out in the presentation that it’s the little details the author mentions in his log which makes it really engaging and interesting. That made me think of the blogs we’re writing. Should I talk about what we had for dinner? Should I talk of how long boat check took or mention the intriguing smells of my bunk? Maybe talking of my traumatic experiences in the usage of the head is going too far? Basically every time I write I question myself and ask whether some parts are all too mundane. Then I realized that I guess I should just write about whatever intrigues me or whatever comes to mind. The fact we’re all doing them helps to bring all the parts of the experience together to share with others.
 

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