At Sea
As a relative newcomer to the National Geographic Endeavour, I'm gradually coming to learn- and appreciate- the routines onboard this friendly and happy ship. Standing watch on the bridge from 4AM to 8AM and 4PM to 8PM gives me the opportunity to see those routines start and finish with sunrise and sunset each day.
Arriving on a darkened Bridge to start my morning watch, I have a few hours to myself before anyone else is awake. Without fail, however, the first guest arrives on the Bridge 15 minutes before sunrise, binoculars in hand, and is soon joined by one of our naturalists (with binoculars, camera and bird identification guide all in hand.)
They spend the rest of my watch scanning the horizon, searching for sea birds or marine mammals. (This morning, they were rewarded with 50 Spinner dolphins as they frolicked, jumped, and spun under the rising sun.) By 7AM, a steady flow of guests has stopped by the Bridge to either drink some of the freshly brewed coffee or merely get an update on our progress throughout the night. The ship has slowly woken up.
For the afternoon watch, our faithful bird and mammal spotters are still camped out on whichever side of the Bridge is shady, and today were rewarded with 75 Fraser dolphins off the starboard bow. Taking full advantage of what our Undersea Specialist calls "Play Time", or the flexibility in our schedule that allows us to stop the ship and follow dolphins whenever possible, we quickly slowed the ship down and turned around 180 degrees in order to get a close up view.
By sunset, a crowd gathers on the Bridge to look for the elusive green flash, which we caught briefly this evening as the sun set between clouds. Shortly afterwards, however, I once again find myself alone on a dark Bridge as guests and crew alike head to dinner. Going outside on the wing, I delight in the warm tropical air, listen to the hushed bubbling of the wake down the ship's side, and feel a connection to the sea that isn't possible on a larger ship.
Over the last five years, I've crossed the Atlantic probably 70 times, and it has always been onboard a massive ship, racing across the Atlantic as quickly as possible, with a totally enclosed bridge that is sealed off from the weather and elements. It has been a delight to instead slowly cross the ocean looking for wildlife, and working onboard the National Geographic Endeavour has renewed my appreciation for the simple joy of being at sea. Happily, it a joy that our guests on this crossing share as well.
As a relative newcomer to the National Geographic Endeavour, I'm gradually coming to learn- and appreciate- the routines onboard this friendly and happy ship. Standing watch on the bridge from 4AM to 8AM and 4PM to 8PM gives me the opportunity to see those routines start and finish with sunrise and sunset each day.
Arriving on a darkened Bridge to start my morning watch, I have a few hours to myself before anyone else is awake. Without fail, however, the first guest arrives on the Bridge 15 minutes before sunrise, binoculars in hand, and is soon joined by one of our naturalists (with binoculars, camera and bird identification guide all in hand.)
They spend the rest of my watch scanning the horizon, searching for sea birds or marine mammals. (This morning, they were rewarded with 50 Spinner dolphins as they frolicked, jumped, and spun under the rising sun.) By 7AM, a steady flow of guests has stopped by the Bridge to either drink some of the freshly brewed coffee or merely get an update on our progress throughout the night. The ship has slowly woken up.
For the afternoon watch, our faithful bird and mammal spotters are still camped out on whichever side of the Bridge is shady, and today were rewarded with 75 Fraser dolphins off the starboard bow. Taking full advantage of what our Undersea Specialist calls "Play Time", or the flexibility in our schedule that allows us to stop the ship and follow dolphins whenever possible, we quickly slowed the ship down and turned around 180 degrees in order to get a close up view.
By sunset, a crowd gathers on the Bridge to look for the elusive green flash, which we caught briefly this evening as the sun set between clouds. Shortly afterwards, however, I once again find myself alone on a dark Bridge as guests and crew alike head to dinner. Going outside on the wing, I delight in the warm tropical air, listen to the hushed bubbling of the wake down the ship's side, and feel a connection to the sea that isn't possible on a larger ship.
Over the last five years, I've crossed the Atlantic probably 70 times, and it has always been onboard a massive ship, racing across the Atlantic as quickly as possible, with a totally enclosed bridge that is sealed off from the weather and elements. It has been a delight to instead slowly cross the ocean looking for wildlife, and working onboard the National Geographic Endeavour has renewed my appreciation for the simple joy of being at sea. Happily, it a joy that our guests on this crossing share as well.
