21 feb 2025

There is something Surreal about this journey. Studying on a sailing vessle in the Caribbean feels like a dream, one where history, adventure, and learning merge seamlessly.

Just this morning, we were anchored at Terre de haut, hiking through hills bursting with the scent of salt from the sea and the sweat from bodies. The chatter of French filled the air as we explored narrow streets lined with beautiful houses, many of which had long seen their best day. Guadeloupe, with its mix of European and Caribbean influences, felt like a Place caught between two worlds.

But now, as we hoist the sails and set our course northwards, a different kind of excitement takes over. The wind is in our favor, and the sea is calm, a sailor's dream. The crew moves with practiced efficiency, adjusting ropes and checking bearings. Though we are students, we have become part of the ships rythm, learning the language of the sea through hands-on experience.

Life on a school ship isn't romantic in the way people imagine. There's no endless gazing at the horizon or carefree lounging on deck. Its work-coiling ropes, scrubbing deck, navigating, and constantly being aware of the ships movement. The ship never really lets you forget where you are. The floor shifts under your feet, the ropes creak, and the sea slaps against the hull in an unpredictable pattern. It's a strange halfway space, between two places, between rest and responsibility. But there is also a rythm to it , a sense of purpose in knowing that Everything we do keeps us moving forward.

Nightfall will soon arrive, and with it, a deep darkness only lit up by the moon. There is something humbling about being surrounded by nothing but water, the sky above blanketed with stars and satellites. Antigua is still hours away, but I find myself savouring this in-between moment-the anticipation, the quiet hum of the ship cutting through the waves, the feeling of being apart of something greater than myself.

Tomorrow, we will make it to a new Island, new sights, and new challenges. But for now, I lean against the railing, letting a breeze cool down my deeply burned skin.

Until next time, fair winds and following seas.

Vidar Fast, Starboard