Day 99. The account of a Sunset.

I's 1906 here (7:06 pm) and I'm sitting on deck 7 aft looking out at the sky. So many people are out on the 4 external decks looking out back at the ocean, because the sun is just a few degrees from setting. Since we've been heading almost due east this entire voyage, the Sun has always set directly behind us, literally retreating into our wake.

Tonight is cloudless, a perfectly round fireball changing from yellow to red, to a deep purplish hue now, it is truly awesome in the most literal sense of the word- we are all in awe.


More people have come to join now, everybody is leaning on the rail with their elbows and just letting the wind hit them in the face. Even though people are chatting, most people aren't talking much. This is one of those quiet moments that inspire reflection and introspection. As I said in Namibia, there are times in our lives that we wonder whether what we are seeing is real or is just thought up in our minds. This is one of those moments.

It's just a centimeter off of the horizon, now, and half of it has run into a really thin cloud. It looks like the sun is cut in half across the middle.

People keep turning around with their cameras on video mode, recording everybody's reaction to this.

It's hit the horizon now, sitting on the edge of the water. People are hugging, couples have their arms around each other.

This is really insane. It's just sitting on the horizon, as if somebody hit the pause button. The perfectly round ball is about a a third way descended, and has changed all sorts of glowing colors, like an ember in the base of a fire, maybe.

Halfway down now. Silence on the decks. The only sound around me is my fingers hitting the keys. Not one person, including myself, is looking anywhere but directly out... west at the last remnants of the sun.

Only about a third remains, and it's barely pink. This is the moment where everybody looks, trying to see when the last little bit of sun disappears.


....


... Almost .... a barely perceptible little peek.


And... ..... done. 1914. Everybody's clapping. Everywhere, faces have turned back around, looking back towards the ship and resuming their activities. The sun is down, and the sky is now following. It'll turn a few different shades before going dark within the hour.

A minute past sunset, and the amount of people on the decks has been reduced by half. Everybody has things to do, finals to study for, papers to write and conversations to be had. When we're on a ship sailing around the world though, it's amazing to have moments like this that remind us just how amazing this time really is.


Greg