(Pardon the delayed posting…)
Wednesday, September 3rd – Day 1 of 7 on the way to Tahiti
If you’ve seen one ocean, you’ve seen them all. So not true.
Not that we’ve sailed on all the oceans, but we have traversed the Atlantic and the Caribbean. Now we’re tackling the Pacific.
The Caribbean is exactly like all the post cards you see—an incredible turquoise or aqua blue and usually so clear you can see the fishes darting well below the surface. Placid more often than not, it hits you with sensory overload—brilliant sunshine that makes even the heartiest soul squint while reaching for the SPF 50; a color palette of every shade of blue and green; sand so white it dazzles and so smooth you barely feel the abrasion; gentle breezes that ruffle your hair; and salt, that seawater smell that takes you away to paradise.
The Atlantic is dramatically different. Sometimes separated from the Caribbean by only an archipelago of islands, the difference in coloration and temperament is dramatic. The Atlantic is a deep, dark blue, beautiful, like liquid sapphires. The waves on the Atlantic side are big and demanding. They crash with wild abandon against rocky coasts, intolerant of the smoother white shores on the leeward side. You can’t help but acknowledge the overwhelming power.
Now, we set sail on the Pacific. Pacific means peace or peaceful. Ha! This ocean is anything but.
We started out heading due south because of a depression building off the coast of Mexico. The captain wanted to skirt the storm by going behind it. The rocking and rolling we experienced through the night was lulling, like a baby rocking in a cradle. This morning, upright, it’s a little more offsetting. While we aren’t affected by the roll, I’ve heard many people are remaining in the cabins. The dining room is significantly lighter today. Of course, that could be attributed to the late night Mexican Fiesta Buffet the ship’s Food Service crew threw after we left port. (So, we did not participate.)
Regardless of the weather, this ocean has its own unique personality. Not turquoise, not blue, the Pacific is gray-gray-gray. It has a cold look to it, despite outside temps in the 80s and higher. Knowing we’ll sail for seven straight days without seeing lands flavors our perceptions. Sky meets water on a horizon that stretches forever in every direction. Are there words to even describe the feeling? Man is reduced to a speck in a world so vast, it’s overwhelming.
As I stare out at the endless sea I am reminded again of an earlier post I wrote. “Who is man that Thou art mindful of him?” A chilling thought … until you feel His comfort. I am His and He holds me in the palm of His hand.
(Today’s towel critter …
a scorpion.)
