My day (and many other journal entries) started out with a wake up at 7:00 this morning with the Roseway still docked in Gloucester Harbor. I opened my eyes to the ceiling of my bunk, with my library of books (The Notorious RBG, The Round House, and Harry Potter) pressed against my right shoulder. I stretched out my legs and they hit my closet (also known as my duffel) at the other end of my bunk. I turned on my light and army crawled/squished myself to the foot of my bed and grabbed some clothes that I wrestled into while not being able to sit up.
Dressed, I rolled over and got my face towels, toothbrush and toothpaste from my medicine cabinet (shelf) then crawled out of my bunk and on deck for morning muster. In just two weeks being on our boat, this has become so routine that I don’t think twice about it, and my bunk has become nothing short of my home. This morning I was particularly excited because we had planned to do CrossFit in Gloucester before heading for New Bedford, shortly before noon.
Following breakfast, I donned my shorts and sneakers and joined the group to walk to the gym. As we began the workout, my body resisted, but after not too long, it was pumping with endorphins. I sprinted down the sidewalk with my shipmates, my necklaces bouncing, my arms pumping, my legs outstretched, and I had never felt so free. After being cramped on the boat, the short workout was incredibly invigorating, but also a tease to what we can’t have, and what I miss most: running.
Our bodies freshened by movement, we returned to our vessel and set sail for New Bedford via the Cape Cod Canal. As we rolled out of port, swells began to roll onto us. Now 6 ft. swells aren’t that big, but they are big enough to really get a boat rolling from side to side. As water splashed in our scuppers, those of us with weak stomachs (myself), were forced outside with eyes locked on the horizon. Matthew stepped in with a literature class during which we sang the most beautiful shanty called the Mingulay Boat Song. Following class, I took over as forward lookout, then headed below for a nap.
Now I am on deck with the cold wind nipping my fingers. Ahead of us is the tall ship Lynx, painted against the sky. And in front of me, the sun is setting. Dipping below the horizon, the sun sparkles across the water and has left the sky brushed with hues of soft pinks and oranges. It is simple and beautiful.