It’s the 7th official week of Mystic already! (for all you slackers who started school the 8th of september), and the way to honor that is through pictures of the offshore trip.

The end of our trip to sea: We sailed 12 days around the Gulf of Maine and the Bay of Fundy, doing research, setting sails, striking sails, eating delicious food, sleeping for 3-4 hours at a time for 2 weeks (oh, the humanity), playing banjo and singing jack johnson songs on the roof of the laboratory and the doghouse (dockhouse, for you landlubbers), climbing aloft on 6 foot seas, and being rocked to sleep by the swells. Life was pretty good. Though we were only at sea for a bit, it felt like a lifetime had passed. We didn’t know what was happening on land- land didn’t know what was happening on ship. The only thing that mattered was sailing the ship smoothly and doing what needed to be done, a very liberating and cut-all-ties feeling, that made me think of Lord of the Flies. Did you know that there were places on earth that were seemingly untouched, where you could go for days and search for miles without seeing land or boats or people and have it feel like that’s how it should be?
It also led to amazing sunrises that started at 0430 and midnights so dark you couldn’t see a hand held 2 inches in front of your face, because you were awake for both.

On the last day of the 12 day trip we were allowed to shower. Yes, I did just say that statement.
We were allowed to get clean every 3rd-4th ish day. Except when they meant shower, they told us “swim call!” The water was 12 degrees celcius. The bowspr’it (the front netting of the boat) was about 25 feet off the water. The salinity was 34 ppu. Read: very salty. We were wearing bikinis and shorts, respectively. And yet, out of our small class of 19 people, 17 of us jumped off. Repeatedly. (I did 3 times, only the 2nd time was the hardest. The third I was too numb to feel anything.) They even gave us shampoo and soap. We’re hearty young kids, the first mate told us. Good thing.

The final picture of the trip, taking from the roof of the Corwith Cramer, our boat. All smiles, banners, and comradery. You get extremely close to people when you see them every waking hour of the day in all sorts of trying conditions (seasickness, lack of cleanliness, overtiredness, really takes a toll.) By the end of this trip, we were (and are) a united group, ready to tackle the world.
(or atleast another adventure at sea.)


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