Day 1. The Voyage Begins

From the 7th deck of the MV Explorer, I could see nearly the whole island, but I wasn’t looking at the sights. My eyes were locked on my parents, who stood on the dock a few stories beneath me waving goodbye. After the lifeboat drill that the entire ship took part in, I hurried to the top deck, camera and Maryland flag in tow for the moment that I had been waiting for, dreaming about for a long time.

“All guests not traveling aboard the MV Explorer must disembark on the gangway now on deck 2,” came a voice over the loudspeaker. We were close. Very, very close to the beginning of our voyage.

We watched in awe as the stairs connecting us to land were stowed, and cheered loudly as the port-hand untied our last rope and tossed it into the sea. We were free from land, and all of a sudden, a gap began to form. What was nearly an imperceptible space between the ship and the dock grew to 5 feet, 10 feet, we were moving. Voyagers lined on all 8 decks smiled, cheered and wept as we realized that we were committed, no longer bound to just thinking about the voyage. For the first time, the voyage was reality. We were in uncharted territory. The clock was ticking.

Mom and Dad, who had been close enough to yell to easily became harder to see, then nearly impossible. Dad, waving his crutch in the air drew some applause and comments from my friends. I certainly appreciated it, it allowed me to spot him and mom for a bit longer. As we pushed further away, now far beyond shouting distance, I put my camera to my eye and zoomed in, and was able to spot ma and pa one last time. Then they were gone.

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The day began at an early 8:00 am when I woke up in the Atlantis in Nassau. I barely slept last night, anxious and excited as you can imagine. I finished packing and throwing odd items into whatever nook and crannie I could find. I walked down to the lobby, bags in tow, and ate breakfast with Mom and Dad before catching a cab to the ship; I’d see the parents later after I got settled on the ship, before leaving Nassau. After pulling my 100 pounds of luggage for 2 hours in a hot, sweaty line, I made it to the check-in. I must confess, though, nobody complained. We all understood; we were going around the world, how could a long line stress us out!?

I turned in my passport, scanned by bags, and then the moment came. I emerged from the cruise terminal and saw, live and in person my new home. I couldn’t hold back my giddiness. None of us could. The ship is so magnificent, words can’t describe. I am among 735 students, 73% of which are female (it’s a tough life, I know), 14 life-long learners (over 40 adults who want to travel the world with us),100 staff and nearly 200 crew. The ship is beyond well-kept. The crew is amazing at their jobs, and the ship takes pride in it’s beauty. My room is on the 3rd deck (of 8), room 3081. I met my roommate, Nick, who is a very fun, normal guy from PA. Any fears of a crazy uncontrollable mess I’d have to live with were eliminated immediately. I unpacked shortly, walked around to get my bearings straight, and then hopped off the ship for one more visit with Mom and Dad, and for that matter, land.

We had a quick lunch at a nice place in Nassau, and then sat and talked awhile at a starbucks by the ship. From the outdoor veranda, we could see the Explorer docked just a hundred yards away. We talked, laughed and then planned our final goodbyes (dad’s very particular, you know). Then we executed it. I hugged, kissed, nearly (but didn’t) cried. I swiped my new ID card and said hi to the ship, my only home for 9 days until Spain.

After we set sail, we soon realized that Sea-legs are hard to come by. Even as I type, on the aft 6th deck we are REALLY rocking. It is far more than I would have imagined. I can’t believe that this is normal, if (WHEN) we hit some bad weather, I know it will be an experience to remember. We laugh as we walk in zig-zags, bumping into one another in the small hallways and corridors.

Tonight we had some orientation activities, spoke of what to expect and what is expected of us. We heard from our Executive and Academic deans, the ship’s doctor, and the Ship’s Captain (or ‘Master’, as he is officially titled).

Tomorrow, the ship will be shutting down all internet activities at 1100 so that it can have all available bandwidth at its disposal. Why, you ask? Because they plan to tap into satellite television so that we can watch the inauguration of Barack Obama in Washington DC, live from the mid-Atlantic. Pretty. Damn. Cool. And no, we will not be doing that for the superbowl.

Besides that, no classes tomorrow as we are in meetings and orientation all day. I’ll be back tomorrow with some odd facts and interesting tid-bits. Until then, good night from the Atlantic Ocean!

Greg