One Atlantic Crossing Later

Crossing an ocean is no small feat. It has been the reality of only a select few for millennia and as of today, it has been checked off of my to-do list and now lies in the past. Ever since I heard about Class Afloat, I knew that I wanted to do this and here I am. In Azores, 2386 nautical miles later, across the Atlantic Ocean. Since we last spoke, a lot has happened. We left the Dominican Republic after completing our service projects there and made our way up to Bermuda, an overseas British territory that has famously become one of the world’s largest tax havens. The sail from the D.R. to Bermuda was nine days and consisted of us sailing along the edge of the Bermuda triangle which, while rather uneventful for our crew, was such a surreal experience. In this crossing, we went from calm waters to full blown storms back to calm once again. At one point my bed was at a 19-degree angle, something I have learned is nearly impossible to have a good sleep on. It was also during this sail that I transitioned from the shorts and t-shirts that I had become accustomed to wearing, to the long sleeves and pants that are now mostly my reality. We were supposed to arrive in Bermuda on February 15th however to the surprise of us all, we managed to arrive a day earlier which meant I could wish my family and friends at home a happy valentine’s day. The following day, we joined the Bermuda Institute of Ocean Sciences (BIOS) and a local environmentalist group on Coopers Island to participate in a beach cleanup and coastal forest restoration project which was both insightful and interesting to be able to be a part of. This was followed by an in-depth coral lab back at the BIOS headquarters. In the afternoon, I let my spontaneity have the best of me when I got off the bus early and went to explore some local attractions including an underground swimming oasis and a blue hole that to the naked eye seemed to be bottomless. On our third day in Bermuda, we got to join a local couple who had started their own business, Unstory, for a guided discussion and tour of some local black history of particular importance in Bermuda. This experience came with incredibly intense emotions that made me understand just how important this history is to Bermuda despite the institutions and governments doing everything in their power to make sure this isn’t the case. And from there we set sail. Yes, that’s right. We packed back onto our tin can of a home and set off, destined for the next spot on our adventure. Unlike in the past though, this trip was going to be longer than the others. We would be skipping our way across the Atlantic Ocean. As we departed land for the last time in 18 days, emotions were at an all-time high. It’s an extremely strange thing to say you are doing. As the sails unfurled and we began our sail, I realized more than ever just how lucky I am.

You see, as you’re sailing across an ocean, one of the hardest things I found was finding ways to not let the days blend together. For this leg of the voyage, my watch was on deck from 02:00 to 04:00 and 14:00 to 16:00 every day. When you’re getting up in the middle of the night, every night, the day before and the day after so easily become one long day. That being said, once you began to look for ways to separate the days, it wasn’t hard to do. Similar to our previous voyage, we hit some insane storms on this crossing as well. Take a moment to imagine this: You wake up for your watch 02:00 and make your way to the deck. It’s windy and cold as you step outside but nothing you haven’t felt before. Your two hours on deck start off strong but, as the clock proceeds to tick, a storm is brewing not so far in the distance. It starts with just some lightning far away but, with a blink of an eye, those stormy clouds are fast approaching. Your mate, Bruno, decides that we should take down the grobs Obermars sail as a precaution to the prevailing winds. You’ve done this many times by now so with the command being made, you and your watch leap to action and make your way from the aft to the main deck. By the time you are on the ropes, the winds are strong and the storm is clearly making an attempt to attack you. You haul on the lines which at one point would have been easy to pull but with the winds, they aren’t budging. It’s dark out and suddenly the strong winds become even stronger. The ropes start whipping around as they grasp for the gusts that are now controlling us all. While it is terrifying, the adrenaline is pumping through your body, and you are hyper alert. The hollers of Germans yelling can be heard across the deck. It's likely at this point that you would feel like it couldn’t get any worse. Well, you were wrong. The wind turned into rain that was so powerful that you couldn’t open your eyes to see your surroundings. Your waterproof gear is no longer effective, and you can feel that waves crashing all around you. “FIESTE” the German command for stop is barely heard over the screeches of the wind well above and around you. You work for nearly 45 minutes outside in the cold, harsh, elements before finally it is safe enough to leave the sail on deck and make your way to the mess for a much-needed break. While absolutely terrifying, this was also one of the best experiences of my life. The mixture of fear and adrenaline made for an unforgettable moment. While this may have been one of the scarier situations of the crossing, there were plenty of incredible parts as well. Sunsets and intense moments of community were unforgettable as well. Being here reminds me of a time many years ago when I had boarded the Pacific Grace, a different tall ship in BC. There was a photo of a crew that had sailed her across the Pacific and my 14-year-old self had said: “I want to do that someday”. Well 14-year-old Ethan, you can rest easy now because I’ve done it. I fulfilled our dream and lived to tell the story. I struggled to write this post because in my mind, there were so many things to include that I couldn’t possibly articulate it all into words. While I may never be able to give the experience the true justice it deserves, I can certainly try. Atlantic Ocean, thank you for the experience you so graciously have given me. It’s come with its fair share of challenges but equally as many unforgettable moments. Storms, sunsets, social nights, and dolphins. Ukulele concerts, furling sails in storms, goofy watch conversations at 2AM. Journal entries, dish pit dance parties, movie nights and more, you have been a blast. Thank you for changing my perspective on the world as I know it. I couldn’t be more thankful.