Just a taste of my brief tropical vacation. I decided to leave the bikini pictures out.
Today was the best Monday of my life.
I am currently in Key West, FL having what they call “spring break”. Personally, I have never spent such a holiday in a warm place, as is apparently the cultural norm, but I am starting to see the appeal.
I spent the morning kayaking through mangrove channels and to a Florida estuary where I saw my first tropical Atlantic biota: purple and green amenones, sponges, sea stars, and sea cucumbers. I also found a horseshoe crab exoskeleton, which I carried around much longer than I should have and attempted to fashion into a hat.
After the morning excursion, I treated myself to some local sushi and retired to a nap by the pool (one of the four at this resort), where I stayed until the sun extinguished.
I should also mention that it is Valentine’s Day and, thanks to the boys in my group, I awoke to balloons and chocolate at the end of my bed. Always a pleasant way to start the morning.
I finished off this perfect Monday with a fancy dinner in downtown Key West and a powerwalk back to the resort. Warm weather is growing on me. Though I have no tan to show for it. You’re not surprised.
But, this tropical vacation is sure to be too brief; I board the SSV Corwith Cramer in just two days and work will begin again. Aboard the Cramer I will be responsible for steering, navigating, cooking, cleaning, watching, deploying nets, servicing trawls, maintaining the engine, manning the sails, swabbing the deck, and all that other good stuff. Fortunately, I have some shipmates to help me.
Did I mention I'm on vacation at a fancy resort? This is the view from the back deck of my room. Yes, that is white sand.
The voyage will consist of three phases. Phase one is training/orientation by the mates (scientists and crew), during which students are expected to wander around our 135-ft schooner looking confused and sea sick for a few weeks. Phase two is a cutback in crew responsibility and an increase in student proficiency. Phase three completes the transition to a student-operated sailing vessel, and students will take over both command and grunt work during watches.
“Watch” refers to both the span of time one is on duty, the work team to which one belongs, and the job one performs. Sailors weren’t the best at naming things. Our entire crew population will be split into three watches. Watch lengths rotate between 6 hours, 6 hours, 4 hours, 4 hours, and 4 hours. Somehow on a 48-hr schedule (I’ll learn the details during Phase 1). Watch responsibilities include the above-mentioned tasks, steering, navigating, etc.
To say I am excited for this Caribbean adventure would be a severe understatement. Six weeks under sail, four weeks without sight of land, minimal sleep, close quarters, daily research, midnight watch. All these are certain to be formative experiences in my life as a scientist and as a person.
The close quarters and lack of alone time will probably be my biggest personal challenge. Along with not having the internet. I suppose I will have to learn to form productive relationships with the people around me that can fulfill my needs for meaningful human communication without the artificial booster of an online community. Bummer. I expect midnight watches on the bowsprit and journaling after hours will also help me maintain my sanity.
Cat Jenks, oddly, is excited for our shower limitations. We are allowed a saltwater shower every day and a freshwater shower every three days. The saltwater is a bit unproductive and people often opt out. I suppose they could substitute salt smell for ‘uman stank. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Hauling our bags into our five-star resort. Life is hard. My hair was pink then.
My hair is currently black. Whoops. It’ll fade in the sun. Though not before making my skin look even whiter compared to the tan, leathery vacationers around the pool. Thanks, redhead complexion and Alaskan heritage.