Time for a quick blog post: we have about 16 hours before we're scheduled to land in Yokohama, Japan early on the morning of Sunday, January 27. I think we're all about ready to reach land after about 10 days at sea. Today is by far the worst sea weather. There's a low pressure system that's resulted in high winds, sea swells of 4 meters, people and objects getting knocked over, and general rough travels on the ship.
I'd have some pictures to post, but all the exterior doors are off-limits, elevators are closed, and everything that can be tied down is tied down. Today the kids did not play ball on the top deck. Today the silverware flew out of the cafeteria drawers as the ship lurched. Most of the windows and portholes on the ship, no matter what deck, are constantly being splashed by sea water.
Whitecaps are visible out the windows. Wind is whistling in the hallways. My Biomedical Ethics class adjourned early because several students had to make a dash for the restrooms. I've heard several faculty who have been on semesters before state that this is the worst they've seen.
So far, Ellen, Jasper, and I are holding up okay. I've been able to balance pretty well, and I think it's in no small part to spending many Saturdays trying to stand upright on bouncing hay wagons. Having mastered the side stance is a good skill to have right about now. I'm hoping that if I can make it through this without turning green and getting sick, I may just make it the whole journey without erupting.
What I feel is that I'm somewhat inclined to say to mama nature, "bring it", and we can say we made it through without a scratch. The ship is sturdy. Stuff slides around but can be tidied up. But just this one big storm will be fine, thank you.
Domo arigato.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
Bridge
January 24 was a pretty nice day. Seas were a bit calmer than they've been recently, and we had a last little bit of warm air before we get closer to Japan and it gets cold again. I hear it's a bit nasty back home; please comment and let me know what's going on back in VA with the weather or anything else.
I signed up for a tour of the bridge and have been looking forward to this for the entire ship thus far. Twenty minutes, about 15 people at a time, and we get to have a crew member punch in a security code and open the door to the bridge. It's a room at the front of the ship with a huge linear row of flat-glass panels across the front span of the ship, a much bigger version of the windshield of your own car or pickup truck. In some ways the bridge is like a library: there are computers, lots of papers and charts, and a desk to sit down and chart the course if for some reason all the power was out (of course, if power were out there probably wouldn't be any propulsion, but I didn't ask about that).
The bridge also has lots of switches, radar screens, and in the middle two captain's chairs with a small steering wheel and throttle control. These aren't really used much of the time because so much of the journey is on autopilot, but I believe the captain uses the manual controls as the ship is maneuvered into position by tugboats as we dock.
Part of the purpose of all the screens, computers, radar, etc. is to chart the smoothest journey and avoid other ships within 35 nautical miles, avoid whales, and navigate around storm systems. A few days back I reported that we camped out at Honolulu for an extra evening to bypass some storms, and to make up some extra time there was a third engine brought online to boost the speed, so we're motoring pretty quickly through the water. I asked and found out that the ship can run on one engine at lower speeds, two at typical speeds up to about 20 knots, three engines at our present speed of 23 knots, and when the MV Explorer really wants to fly the fourth engine kicks in. The bridge personnel reported with the fourth engine fired up, we can hit 30 knots and outrun most pirates. Even then, we have water cannons and door locks to keep pirates out. So far, no pirates have come after us on this or any other SAS excursions.
We also were invited to a UVa dinner with the captain that evening, and it was formal dress and a sit-down meal with appetizers, soup, salad, dinner, wine, and dessert. I could get used to that.
Hope everyone back home is doing well. Feel free to comment so I can hear from you, or write to me at scott.ramsey.sp13@semesteratsea.org.
I signed up for a tour of the bridge and have been looking forward to this for the entire ship thus far. Twenty minutes, about 15 people at a time, and we get to have a crew member punch in a security code and open the door to the bridge. It's a room at the front of the ship with a huge linear row of flat-glass panels across the front span of the ship, a much bigger version of the windshield of your own car or pickup truck. In some ways the bridge is like a library: there are computers, lots of papers and charts, and a desk to sit down and chart the course if for some reason all the power was out (of course, if power were out there probably wouldn't be any propulsion, but I didn't ask about that).
The bridge also has lots of switches, radar screens, and in the middle two captain's chairs with a small steering wheel and throttle control. These aren't really used much of the time because so much of the journey is on autopilot, but I believe the captain uses the manual controls as the ship is maneuvered into position by tugboats as we dock.
Part of the purpose of all the screens, computers, radar, etc. is to chart the smoothest journey and avoid other ships within 35 nautical miles, avoid whales, and navigate around storm systems. A few days back I reported that we camped out at Honolulu for an extra evening to bypass some storms, and to make up some extra time there was a third engine brought online to boost the speed, so we're motoring pretty quickly through the water. I asked and found out that the ship can run on one engine at lower speeds, two at typical speeds up to about 20 knots, three engines at our present speed of 23 knots, and when the MV Explorer really wants to fly the fourth engine kicks in. The bridge personnel reported with the fourth engine fired up, we can hit 30 knots and outrun most pirates. Even then, we have water cannons and door locks to keep pirates out. So far, no pirates have come after us on this or any other SAS excursions.
We also were invited to a UVa dinner with the captain that evening, and it was formal dress and a sit-down meal with appetizers, soup, salad, dinner, wine, and dessert. I could get used to that.
Hope everyone back home is doing well. Feel free to comment so I can hear from you, or write to me at scott.ramsey.sp13@semesteratsea.org.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Big Swells
Looking out to the horizon, the sea appears calm. There aren't waves per se, but what we have here are swells. I'm not perfectly sure of the science, but what I think of when I try to understand the action under the ship is that the moon, sun, storms, and other factors have a literal ripple effect on the water. When waves get to shore, they speed up, curl, and then break; the speed comes from a high volume of water moved into a progressively smaller container when the sea gets shallower.
So, out in the Pacific where we still have about 1800 nautical miles to travel before docking in Yokohama, Japan, there's a huge volume of ocean spread out into a very large, deep container. As the ocean gets closer to shore it will speed up and make waves, but out there that energy exists as ocean swells. The water rises and falls and moves very gradually towards shore.
Last night and into this morning, the seas got rough. The swells were about two meters, so looking out it doesn't seem so severe when gazing out the porthole when the water rises about a meter and then bottoms out another meter--a meter each way above and below the median point. Add them together and you get a swell of two meters from peak to valley.
As the ship drives forward, we catch swells several times over the length of the ship. These swells cause things to bob up and down, including the very heavy ship. When it does bob, the ship makes lots of creaky sounds, and sometimes it sounds like someone is tapping at our cabin door, so more than once we've answered and no one's there. Generally, it's a steady motion, but the occasional strong swell causes the ship to lurch, sliding plates on tables, knocking your computer off the dresser onto the floor, tossing Jasper out of bed.
We've got some perks on the MV Explorer that are pretty cool. It's great to hang around students all day, but as family of a faculty member—i.e., hanger-on to the ship's librarian—I can venture into the faculty lounge. It's something like I envisioned in elementary school: a place where the teachers hang out, drink coffee, and then after hours the bar opens up, just like in grade school. The faculty lounge is the only bar on the ship and it's got a great panoramic view of the forward motion at the front of the ship, about 50 feet above sea level.
Last night I lucked into a party the academic dean held to celebrate some event or other, not sure what, but there were slider burgers and free drinks. Score! I hadn't had a cheeseburger in weeks, so that was a treat, and even though I prefer quality microbrews I don't turn down a free Bud.
Oh, yeah—swells. Anywho, around midnight, the seas got rough and the ship was really moving. Through the glass surround of the lounge on deck 7, seawater sprayed up onto the deck as we hit some swells.
Here's a few pics of water, but I can't really capture the water coming up onto the deck until we hit some big water during daytime. Tonight, we'll be out on deck trying for a glimpse of stars in the middle of the Pacific if the clouds are sparse. The starwatching has been okay so far, but tonight may be a really clear night, and the ship's lights will be turned off, so I'm optimistic for a great view.
Thanks for reading.
So, out in the Pacific where we still have about 1800 nautical miles to travel before docking in Yokohama, Japan, there's a huge volume of ocean spread out into a very large, deep container. As the ocean gets closer to shore it will speed up and make waves, but out there that energy exists as ocean swells. The water rises and falls and moves very gradually towards shore.
Last night and into this morning, the seas got rough. The swells were about two meters, so looking out it doesn't seem so severe when gazing out the porthole when the water rises about a meter and then bottoms out another meter--a meter each way above and below the median point. Add them together and you get a swell of two meters from peak to valley.
As the ship drives forward, we catch swells several times over the length of the ship. These swells cause things to bob up and down, including the very heavy ship. When it does bob, the ship makes lots of creaky sounds, and sometimes it sounds like someone is tapping at our cabin door, so more than once we've answered and no one's there. Generally, it's a steady motion, but the occasional strong swell causes the ship to lurch, sliding plates on tables, knocking your computer off the dresser onto the floor, tossing Jasper out of bed.
We've got some perks on the MV Explorer that are pretty cool. It's great to hang around students all day, but as family of a faculty member—i.e., hanger-on to the ship's librarian—I can venture into the faculty lounge. It's something like I envisioned in elementary school: a place where the teachers hang out, drink coffee, and then after hours the bar opens up, just like in grade school. The faculty lounge is the only bar on the ship and it's got a great panoramic view of the forward motion at the front of the ship, about 50 feet above sea level.
Last night I lucked into a party the academic dean held to celebrate some event or other, not sure what, but there were slider burgers and free drinks. Score! I hadn't had a cheeseburger in weeks, so that was a treat, and even though I prefer quality microbrews I don't turn down a free Bud.
Oh, yeah—swells. Anywho, around midnight, the seas got rough and the ship was really moving. Through the glass surround of the lounge on deck 7, seawater sprayed up onto the deck as we hit some swells.
Here's a few pics of water, but I can't really capture the water coming up onto the deck until we hit some big water during daytime. Tonight, we'll be out on deck trying for a glimpse of stars in the middle of the Pacific if the clouds are sparse. The starwatching has been okay so far, but tonight may be a really clear night, and the ship's lights will be turned off, so I'm optimistic for a great view.
Thanks for reading.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Lost Day
A few years ago, maybe about 10 at this point,* I was really into the debut album by Third Eye Blind. Semi-Charmed Kind of Life was the big hit, but there were other tunes on the album I really liked, including a song titled Losing a Whole Year. The concept had to do, I believe, with drug use, or being lost, or the end of a relationship, or people who had it good and threw it away, or whatever you wished to read into the meaning of the song and the title. To me, the song was really catchy and the concept of pausing for just a few seconds and realizing that time flies screaming by was poignant.
Today is Sunday, January 20, and we've flown from VA to CA and sailed from San Diego to Mexico then to Hawaii and onward headed toward Japan, and we have passed through several timezones. At this point, I'm not exactly sure how many hours behind EST I currently am, but I think it's around 8 at this point. Tonight I'm going to have a real mind-bender when I wake up: it'll be Tuesday January 22. January 21 won't have happened, the day will not have existed, it will have been a day that was not.
I'm perplexed by it, too. Because of the time differences, we have to adjust, and tomorrow is the day that is designated as the non-day. As of now, we're 8 hours behind the time at home, and later tonight when the time comes we'll be about 16 hours ahead. Whoa.
It's been quite a trip thus far. Homeschooling is my biggest challenge and I'm learning how to do one-on-one teaching, I'm working a few hours a week on Lexis reports and spreadsheets, I'm taking an English class on Women Writers Around the Globe (and turned in a short paper today) along with a Philosophy course on Biomedical Ethics. Being out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 2,000 miles away from landing in Japan, hearing that the sea floor is 17,000 feet below, and looking out and seeing water spanning everything and no landmarks makes me realize I'm in a position I've not ever been in before.
So, on the day that I'll have that doesn't exist, what should I do? Party like it's 1999? Stay up all night? Meditate? Hop on the spin bike? Read from Midnight January 20 for a few hours straight through January 22?
Whoa, indeed.
* With limited internet, I wasn't able to Google Third Eye Blind, but there are several research websites the ship allows that don't eat up your internet allotment (whoever knew that bandwidth was a limited resource?) including some UVA cites and Wikipedia. I see now that 1997 was the year the album came out. There's even a nice little snippet of the song. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Losing_A_Whole_Year.
Postscript: I finally got to meet Archbishop Desmond Tutu this evening, and he's evidently enamored with Ellen. She introduced me, and I am thrilled to have shaken his hand. I guess I made my decision to do something for this evening when the calendar skips forward a day: I've uncorked a Merlot and will have a glass as the day slips away; I probably won't be pouring any out for my homies...
Today is Sunday, January 20, and we've flown from VA to CA and sailed from San Diego to Mexico then to Hawaii and onward headed toward Japan, and we have passed through several timezones. At this point, I'm not exactly sure how many hours behind EST I currently am, but I think it's around 8 at this point. Tonight I'm going to have a real mind-bender when I wake up: it'll be Tuesday January 22. January 21 won't have happened, the day will not have existed, it will have been a day that was not.
I'm perplexed by it, too. Because of the time differences, we have to adjust, and tomorrow is the day that is designated as the non-day. As of now, we're 8 hours behind the time at home, and later tonight when the time comes we'll be about 16 hours ahead. Whoa.
It's been quite a trip thus far. Homeschooling is my biggest challenge and I'm learning how to do one-on-one teaching, I'm working a few hours a week on Lexis reports and spreadsheets, I'm taking an English class on Women Writers Around the Globe (and turned in a short paper today) along with a Philosophy course on Biomedical Ethics. Being out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 2,000 miles away from landing in Japan, hearing that the sea floor is 17,000 feet below, and looking out and seeing water spanning everything and no landmarks makes me realize I'm in a position I've not ever been in before.
So, on the day that I'll have that doesn't exist, what should I do? Party like it's 1999? Stay up all night? Meditate? Hop on the spin bike? Read from Midnight January 20 for a few hours straight through January 22?
Whoa, indeed.
* With limited internet, I wasn't able to Google Third Eye Blind, but there are several research websites the ship allows that don't eat up your internet allotment (whoever knew that bandwidth was a limited resource?) including some UVA cites and Wikipedia. I see now that 1997 was the year the album came out. There's even a nice little snippet of the song. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Losing_A_Whole_Year.
Postscript: I finally got to meet Archbishop Desmond Tutu this evening, and he's evidently enamored with Ellen. She introduced me, and I am thrilled to have shaken his hand. I guess I made my decision to do something for this evening when the calendar skips forward a day: I've uncorked a Merlot and will have a glass as the day slips away; I probably won't be pouring any out for my homies...
Friday, January 18, 2013
Leaving Hawaii
It's been a brief stay in Hawaii with a mixed bag of weather and emotions. We got a 4wd Jeep for exploring the big island when we landed in Hilo, and it was great having a vehicle to run errands, but afternoon rain made it a soggy first day so we didn't get to go up high to the peaks of the 13,000+ volcanoes. However, on the second day, the sky was clear early in the morning, and we could see the tops of the mountains, looming way above. The volcanoes are called shield volcanoes because over the millennia, the gradual addition of new lava causes a more gradual rise rather than jagged mountains caused by plate shifting or other geologic events.
So, on our first day, we ran around, stocked up on sodas in town, then headed out to Volcanoes Nationals Park to see much of the smoldering volcanic activity partially obscured by rain and fog. There was also vog, which is volcanic smog, and that might be the reason that today my throat feels like I swallowed sandpaper. Here's a few shots:
Lava flows spread out for miles on the mountainside and work their way down the mountain into the sea.
This would be an unwelcome sign to slam into on a bike ride.
Hilo has a fantastic farmer's market, and the produce there is great
since the weather is so nice year-round. We hit the market in the
morning of the second day while we had some sunshine.
Then we went to 'Akaka Falls for some sightseeing. It's a pretty set of waterfalls with a short walk that views multiple small falls and one spectacular 400+ foot waterfall that goes straight down and has eroded a big crater at the bottom. What made this poignant was that this was one of the last spots that Ellen's mom got to see on her trip to Hawaii when she died there about 10 years ago. Ellen carried three Birds of Paradise flowers to the falls and tossed them over the side in her mom's memory.
We've docked in Honolulu for a few hours to refuel and take on provisions for our longest stretch at sea; we'll be about 9 days at sea from Hawaii to Kobe, Japan. For me, it was great to land on solid ground even after getting accustomed to the rocking of the ship and the din of the big diesels. We may be in for some rough seas because the crew has strapped down some of the fixtures including the books in the library.
So, it's beautiful here, and in a lot of ways I like the ship and the folks onboard, but it's definitely been an adjustment. I miss riding, I miss folks back home, I don't miss the weather than cancelled Albemarle public schools. I also have a huge amount of respect for Jasper's teacher; trying to not undo the information they've sunk into his brain has been my biggest challenge on this trip. I'm wondering if I bit off more than I can handle with two classes and schooling Jasper, but I'm learning some management strategies and will come up with more strategic teaching approaches because winging it just isn't working. I need to teach myself to teach, and that's a tall order, but I do have great notes from Jasper's teacher that I can use to build outlines, so that's the next step for me. He's doing well with the other kids on the trip and is doing great with writing assignments and other subjects, and it'll be even better once I organize my teaching notes into a logical order.
Until later,
Scott
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Middle of the Pacific Ocean, January 14 (my birthday)
We're about one day away from docking at Hilo, Hawaii, and it's been almost a week at sea. The seas are getting a bit warmer as we approach Hawaii, and the air and sea are hovering around an incredibly pleasant 70 degrees F/27C. Jasper and I missed his classwork session this morning since he wasn't feeling good, so he rested a bit until his tummy felt better. So, later in the morning, we felt up to going out on deck and doing some reading. Not a bad way to study:
Jasper's schooling is going well so far. There are about 30 other school-aged children on the ship and two studies coordinators. We do school lessons as a group in the mornings and then do board games and physical activities in the afternoons. Our focus has been on math work including currency conversion, multiplication, and beginning algebra. There's also geography, writing, and world culture (I think we'll have that one covered). Here's a shot of the boys playing on the ball court. Notice the nets, which are effective in keeping the balls from going overboard; ball overboard isn't nearly as critical as man overboard, and according to the captain, it takes about 15 minutes to get the ship turned around. I guess that's due to the nearly 600-foot length of the boat, the heavy mass, and that the ship travels around 20mph and doesn't have brakes.
I'm going to sign off for now. It's my birthday today, so a big shout-out to my family back home. Also, today makes me think that in one month, or thereabouts, the Pantani Ride will be on and I'm going to miss the fun of finding Albemarle and Greene County gravel roads that turn up steeply and climb them...
Sunday, January 13, 2013
January 12 Haiku
Today is Jan 12
Lots of sea all around us
Here's a wave picture
Hey, one thing that's new
I've not seen in my travels
the gorgeous blue hue
Ocean water here
is two miles deep below us
all-enveloping
A deep blue color
gently rolling up and down
with some white foam caps
The ship tosses spray
that generates air bubbles,
unfurls the turquoise rug.
Lots of sea all around us
Here's a wave picture
Hey, one thing that's new
I've not seen in my travels
the gorgeous blue hue
Ocean water here
is two miles deep below us
all-enveloping
A deep blue color
gently rolling up and down
with some white foam caps
The ship tosses spray
that generates air bubbles,
unfurls the turquoise rug.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Really Out to Sea
Ellen mentioned in her blog that I got a haircut in Ensenada right before we left. The haircut was well worth it for six bucks. Here's a shot the family along with Jasper's grandfather who's now on the ship with us:
We've got a few famous and semi-famous folks onboard. First of all, Ellen was stoked to have a visit by UVa President Terry Sullivan in the ship's library. Then, there's Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Yes, the Nobel Peace Prize winning South African civil rights figure is on board with us for a good portion of the journey. We also have sons of actor Bill Pullman (Independence Day, tv, etc.) and NBA star David Robinson, who's son is quite tall and also named David Robinson. Ellen and her dad have met the Archbishop, and I'm hoping to be able to meet him soon.
So, about 630 students are now onboard, and things are a little noisier and a lot more crowded. It's been fun to watch folks adjust to finding the way around the ship and to walking as the ship bounces around. Before all of them got on en masse yesterday, Jasper and I made a trip into Ensenada for my haircut and some supplies:
One of the things I like about different countries is checking out the grocery stores. Tony the Tiger and other cereal characters look a bit different and slightly more vibrant here. There were beautiful donuts and pastries in the bigger of the two grocery stores we saw with a hopping bakery.
Classes start tomorrow along with official homeschooling, so wish me luck.
Later,
Scott
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Mexico: pesos vs. dollars
Hola,
Second time to Ensenada, and it's a slightly different experience. The first time was with Semester at Sea alumni on their reunion voyage as Ellen got the library set up, and they were excited to catch up and reunite. For me, it felt like I was somewhat of a bystander since I hadn't actually been on Semester at Sea and wasn't yet an alum.
Now that the Spring 2013 trip is officially underway with the faculty and staff onboard, it's great having the entire ship to a fairly small group of really close-knit folks. Some of the professors have taught onboard before, and some of them even seem eager to have me in class. Maybe I'm once again so different from the typical demographic that I'll be a good counterbalance to the classroom.
In college, it was me being an introverted southern guy from a small school. Now, it's me being an older male, still introverted but now willing to discuss issues in class because, well, lots of living has taken place since being in an academic setting over 20 years ago. I think the students won't know what to make of me.
Jman and I took a long walk to reach the beach where we went surfing the other day, and we didn't surf this time but collected seashells, mostly sand dollars. The parallel that I can draw is that here, at least this close to the Mexican/American border, pesos and dollars are pretty much interchangeable. I'm mostly able to calculate what stuff costs in pesos at 12.5 per dollar, but what's throwing me is that pesos are proceeded by by a dollar sign as well. Guess you just have to figure out that if something's priced higher than you'd expect, it's in pesos.
No pictures yet to post from the latest blog entry, but I'll try to have some soon. Tomorrow, the students board along with additional life-long learners, so Jasper will have his Grandpa join us on the trip and share his room. Might be a bit different around the ship with about 650 undergrads running around. Sounds fun and somewhat scary, too.
Until later,
Scott
Second time to Ensenada, and it's a slightly different experience. The first time was with Semester at Sea alumni on their reunion voyage as Ellen got the library set up, and they were excited to catch up and reunite. For me, it felt like I was somewhat of a bystander since I hadn't actually been on Semester at Sea and wasn't yet an alum.
Now that the Spring 2013 trip is officially underway with the faculty and staff onboard, it's great having the entire ship to a fairly small group of really close-knit folks. Some of the professors have taught onboard before, and some of them even seem eager to have me in class. Maybe I'm once again so different from the typical demographic that I'll be a good counterbalance to the classroom.
In college, it was me being an introverted southern guy from a small school. Now, it's me being an older male, still introverted but now willing to discuss issues in class because, well, lots of living has taken place since being in an academic setting over 20 years ago. I think the students won't know what to make of me.
Jman and I took a long walk to reach the beach where we went surfing the other day, and we didn't surf this time but collected seashells, mostly sand dollars. The parallel that I can draw is that here, at least this close to the Mexican/American border, pesos and dollars are pretty much interchangeable. I'm mostly able to calculate what stuff costs in pesos at 12.5 per dollar, but what's throwing me is that pesos are proceeded by by a dollar sign as well. Guess you just have to figure out that if something's priced higher than you'd expect, it's in pesos.
No pictures yet to post from the latest blog entry, but I'll try to have some soon. Tomorrow, the students board along with additional life-long learners, so Jasper will have his Grandpa join us on the trip and share his room. Might be a bit different around the ship with about 650 undergrads running around. Sounds fun and somewhat scary, too.
Until later,
Scott
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Off to Sea
I've been a bit negligent in posting and getting this blog up and running, but so it goes. Tranquilo is the way to approach things here in Mexico and when traveling.
I've been on this floating hunk of steel for about 36 hours. We embarked from San Diego at about 17:00/5pm PST and sailed southward across the Mexican border at a slow crawl to make the trip in about 12 hours. My first time in international waters, so that was a milestone. The seas were a bit rough in that we pitched side-to-side (versus a yaw for a front-to-back rocking, and a fairly bad pun from whence this blog gets its name). I understand that the pitching is usually lessened when the MV Explorer is under more throttle, so perhaps it'll be mostly smooth as we sail.
So, anyway, we left San Diego, where Jasper had an overload of Legos at his Mecca, Legoland:
Also, a big highlight of my initial trip to California was a visit by Iron Mike, aka Professor, aka Mike Walling. You know you've got a buddy when he hops in the car and drives from Seattle to San Diego to meet up with you and hang out for a few days. We saw a couple cool sights in San Diego including this perhaps unrideable root mass (gulleys of 18 inches between those evil ridges) on the way to the SD Air and Space Museum:
The trip to Ensenada was basically a 12-hour parade lap at a tame pace. My body's reaction to the motion: sleep. I have been sleeping unbelievably soundly without the benefit of doing the usual riding and busywork at home. I did get in a spin on the indoor bike as we were Mexico-bound, and today we're in Ensenada for a few more hours before we head back to San Diego.
Today's adventure was for Jasper and I to give it a go at surfing. I suspected he would be good at it because of sandboarding, snowboarding, and skateboarding, and dang if he didn't pop up and catch his first wave of the lesson. Took me a few tries to get up, and I rode several waves once I got the hang of getting low and using the quads I've built up on the bike but have been neglecting. I did outlast Jasper in the endurance aspect of surfing, since he got a bit chilled in the water with his smaller mass and looser-fitting wetsuit, and my higher mass and tight wetsuit kept me warmer. No pictures of the surfing, you'll just have to take my word for it that this boy from the mountain rode some tasty curls.
When we arrived this morning at daybreak, a much bigger cruise ship docked near us.
I'm guessing that the Carnival ship on the left is at least four times the capacity of the MV Explorer, maybe more. Regardless, the ship has been a blast so far, and we've had fun meeting the crew and fellow travelers.
We'll leave Ensenada in about three hours, which gives me a little time to go get another cerveza.
Ciao for now.
I've been on this floating hunk of steel for about 36 hours. We embarked from San Diego at about 17:00/5pm PST and sailed southward across the Mexican border at a slow crawl to make the trip in about 12 hours. My first time in international waters, so that was a milestone. The seas were a bit rough in that we pitched side-to-side (versus a yaw for a front-to-back rocking, and a fairly bad pun from whence this blog gets its name). I understand that the pitching is usually lessened when the MV Explorer is under more throttle, so perhaps it'll be mostly smooth as we sail.
So, anyway, we left San Diego, where Jasper had an overload of Legos at his Mecca, Legoland:
Also, a big highlight of my initial trip to California was a visit by Iron Mike, aka Professor, aka Mike Walling. You know you've got a buddy when he hops in the car and drives from Seattle to San Diego to meet up with you and hang out for a few days. We saw a couple cool sights in San Diego including this perhaps unrideable root mass (gulleys of 18 inches between those evil ridges) on the way to the SD Air and Space Museum:
The trip to Ensenada was basically a 12-hour parade lap at a tame pace. My body's reaction to the motion: sleep. I have been sleeping unbelievably soundly without the benefit of doing the usual riding and busywork at home. I did get in a spin on the indoor bike as we were Mexico-bound, and today we're in Ensenada for a few more hours before we head back to San Diego.
Today's adventure was for Jasper and I to give it a go at surfing. I suspected he would be good at it because of sandboarding, snowboarding, and skateboarding, and dang if he didn't pop up and catch his first wave of the lesson. Took me a few tries to get up, and I rode several waves once I got the hang of getting low and using the quads I've built up on the bike but have been neglecting. I did outlast Jasper in the endurance aspect of surfing, since he got a bit chilled in the water with his smaller mass and looser-fitting wetsuit, and my higher mass and tight wetsuit kept me warmer. No pictures of the surfing, you'll just have to take my word for it that this boy from the mountain rode some tasty curls.
When we arrived this morning at daybreak, a much bigger cruise ship docked near us.
I'm guessing that the Carnival ship on the left is at least four times the capacity of the MV Explorer, maybe more. Regardless, the ship has been a blast so far, and we've had fun meeting the crew and fellow travelers.
We'll leave Ensenada in about three hours, which gives me a little time to go get another cerveza.
Ciao for now.
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