Sargasso Sea, Western Atlantic

Onward, northward, eastward; we press, we toil, we grind against the seas under the heavy-handed command of Admiral Kelly, a man hardened by many years beneath the equatorial sun. Mercilessly, he lashes us to the tiller and the wheel. With an almost diabolical gleam in his eyes, he scans the deck for the unfortunate soul who may be giving less than his or her life’s energy unto our assigned tasks. He is a man possessed by Neptune’s demons, and he and his minions are bent on making good speed no matter the cost in comfort; or man for that matter. And yet, it is he with whom we have entrusted those very same lives on this Atlantic crossing, and until such time as we set foot upon the shores of England, we must begrudgingly do as he commands.

Though these words may have been true from another era in sea travel, I obviously offer them up only in jest for we “endure” the Atlantic under entirely different conditions. We, of course, travel under power of diesel engines and with well-trained engineers and officers constantly maintaining our heading and speed. And instead of whiling away the time with hard labor, we instead spend our days basking in the tropic sun, lounging by the pool, and reading in the library. And as for our fearless leader, Jim Kelly…he and his “minions” enlighten, educate, and entertain us throughout the day. From insightful presentations on the sea and its inhabitants to beautiful concerts of classical music, the expedition team brings new energy to each day and further instills in all of us more appreciation for life at sea.