feather2pixels

Some of the better photos from the trip.

I am floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Here are a few observations after two days at sea:

The ocean is huge. I was expecting it to be big, but this is ridiculous. At least one of our two 8500 horsepower Enterprise r5 engines has been chugging away continuously but we have barely cleared U.S. waters. Maybe truly understanding the human scale of the Pacific Ocean requires experiencing the seventeen days it takes to cross it. I am immune to sea sickness. The sway is comforting, like a mother rocking me to sleep in her arms. This is also an example of why the sea is great for people who like metaphors. Or smilies. Anyways, I always feel tired here. And it’s hard to run on treadmills, especially since I am not good at running on treadmills that are not floating over ocean swells to begin with.

Lots of common sayings come from the sea. Like “passing muster,” for example: we all have a muster station on the ship and we take muster every day. It’s just like attendance, but for the sea.

I am the most useless person on board the ship. Except for perhaps the doctors, who have done nothing but treat seasick cadets who should grow some balls and ease their minds a good metaphor–it’s all mental. I have been told that I will become more popular once people get smart to the fact that I am the guy that sends pictures back home. Still, my job is ridiculous and I feel ridiculous taking it seriously. I have been shy about asserting myself in a reporterly type of way. Also, I need a fact checker.

The ocean is blue. Incredibly blue. Like paint.

My last day on land was hot and clear, with only a few cirrus clouds breaking up the sky at a high altitude. Down on the Academy quad, campus was temporarily transformed from a sleepy backwater into mass of sun dresses, academic regalia, and grandfathers in Dockers as a standing room only crowd overflowed from under an enormous white circus tent. The occasion was the graduation ceremony of 144 cadets, dressed in their salt and pepper uniforms, ready to take on their watery destinies.

Of course it was thirty three of these seniors whom I dragged through nine credit hours worth of electrically conductive muck this year. And of course my shit was not nearly together enough to have made the necessary arrangements to be part of the ceremony. So I put on my emergency dress shirt, positioned myself at the front of their formation, and intercepted my students one by one to quickly shake their hands as they marched in line to the tent.

I couldn’t have cared less about my own graduation, but something wholesome-seeming about the cadets’ enthusiasm won me over this afternoon. Rita, who, despite an admirable work ethic, struggled all year, found me after the ceremony. Until that moment, I had been completely unsure if my ongoing efforts to encourage her made any difference; she gave me a huge hug and squeaked “thank you so much for everything.” Ryan introduced me as his teacher to his mom, who’s surprise suggested that she was expecting me to be the janitor or something. I looked at him and we laughed. It was damn wholesome.

And as quickly as they appeared, the masses dissipated and suddenly there was nothing left to do but to consider my own watery destiny. I walked to the top of the cliff to get one last glimpse of campus and the Bear, plopped under the Carquinez Bridge for one last night this summer. And then I stole the golf cart, drove my stuff to the dock, and moved in to my cabin. I’m not sure what to expect, really. But I have a great room, the best job on the ship, and 20,000km of water ahead of me: it’s time to get off this rock.

[campus]

[the bear]

[the dock]

[my cabin]

As one of my final preparations for sea, I leave feather2pixels in the able hands of Mr. Nowell Valeri.  I hope to send him dispatches from the Pacific, the Philippine Sea, and beyond.  From there, it’s up to him.  “I’m the man for the job,” he says confidently.  And there you have it: no Earthly distance can keep feather2pixels down.  Ever.