Be It Ever So Humble......

 I suppose there are things that affect our lives that remain a mystery even to ourselves. One such quirk in my personality is a love for the sea. Perhaps it is primal thing (we are on average 57% water after all!) or the result of growing up with the ocean at my front door. But whatever the origin, I love being at sea.

To cross the Atlantic Ocean is commonplace today. But most of us travel  by plane, it saves a lot of time. Like many others I have transversed the Atlantic in the cramped seat of a modern jet liner on a number of occasions. But I have only crossed this vast expanse of salt water by boat once and aboard a ship twice.

     My first adventure across the Atlantic was in one of the Canadian Pacific "steam ships" in 1962. These wonderful ships were all named "Empress", as in the Empress of Canada. Historically, it was the last years of the great passenger ships as the Boeing 707 changed the service and air passage became cheaper than sea travel. Empress ships were later sold and two were purchased by Carnival to start their fleet of Cruise Ships. Indeed, even today Carnival ships have a deck entitled the "Empress Deck".

       Back in 1962 we left for France from Montreal for a wonderful trip down the Saint Lawrence River and out into the mighty ocean. I shared my small cabin, seemingly below the water line as there was not even a port hole, with one other male passenger. Needless to say I did not spend much time there. In fact the other gentleman was a night hawk, and spent most of the evenings and into the early morning at the bar. He occupied the tiny cabin when I was on deck or exploring the ship. A wonderful arrangement as I hardly saw him the whole voyage. I was young, full of expectations, and off to study in Europe.

Even in those days the passenger ships had a small swimming pool, where I spent most of my time initially. However, as we stretched out into the Atlantic the weather worsened, and the pool was closed: all the water had splashed out during a midnight storm.   

      Our trip this month, from Fort Lauderdale to Rome was a totally different experience. Our Star Princess had at least four swimming pools that splashed about at times, but were always available. We travelled in style 5,334 Nautical Miles or 9,878 kilometers from Port Everglades in Florida to Civitavecchi Harbour, near Rome.

We were seven wonderful days at sea prior to sighting the Canary Islands and docking at Tenerife. After another full day at sea we went on to Gibraltar, where I took Maureen to see the place we docked Rabaska (a small yacht) after sailing from Toronto a few years ago. Of course we had to go and see the monkeys as well! Then Star Princess steamed on to Alicante, Barcelona, Marseille, Liverno and Rome.

    Modern cruise ships are equipped with large stabilizers that make the ship glide through the water, even when the wind is a Force #7. The Captain did warn us one night not to leave cameras or computers on the desk in our stateroom, but the change in the ships motion was hardly noticeable. In one sense I was disappointed as I wanted to feel the power of that water as it smacked into our towering mass of steel. It was not to be.

Many of those evenings at sea I would rise around 3 am, slide the balcony door open quietly, not to disturb Maureen, and sit in one of the chairs staring out over the ocean. Although I knew the surface of the ocean was not flat, even though it often appeared so from our tenth deck position. Some nights the stars and moon were glorious. On other nights it was cold and windy and I hurried back to the comfort of the warm cabin and soft bed. Big cruise ships have a way of pulling you away from the reality of nature around you and smothering you with all the attributes of a large city. 

          Two thoughts sifted through my mind on those late night occasions. I am ultimately a product of that ocean. Without the ocean, life as we know it would no longer exist. As a dependent, I was humbled by the thought that  I am only one species of animal on the face of the earth. Those thoughts did not disturb me, rather they helped me to adjust to my environment, allowing me to more fully drink in that rich experience that only a midnight watch can engender. I felt sad for those who were, even at that late hour spending their time watching a movie on deck or clinging to one of the many bars. The most wonderful experiences that ship and ocean can offer, was, for the most part, ignored  by its many passengers.

The sea always intrigues me, changes me, deepens my roots to the reality of our existence on earth and reminds me of what and who I am. I thank the ocean for that occasional lesson and reminder. And yet, in the end ---"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home".

I am alone in the world, and yet I am not lonely.

And that's Dick's View of the World this Week.