Mar 11 - Crossing the Equator (South to North)

DONNA PHILLIPS : We actually crossed the Equator back into the Northern Hemisphere last night at 11:15pm. Instead of joining the on deck festivities, we chose to celebrate this second mile marker with our new friends in the Robusto Cigar bar where the best band on the ship resides most of the time. Props to the 3 piece Latin Jazz ensemble for providing an up beat integral set of music. If only the Casio driven pop song murdering duets found in the Lobby Bar and Casino bar could be replaced by either a chillout or jazz sound track rather than what would make for good fodder for a Saturday Night Live sketch. But I digress into an entirely different subject on the "missing of the musical mark" that Sandy will address at a later date in the log.

At this point in our journey; At Sea, At Port, At Sea, At Port, is well becoming a way of life. What I find interesting from a more personal perspective, is how the allure of floating on the sea is beginning to out weigh the natural curiousity of the Ports. Wide open days of floating from cabin to balcony to pool to dinner with a few changeups smattered about. I need these days at sea and maybe it was the very thing I sought when I first read about this enormous opportunity.

I have changed on every level as a result of visiting these many countries of South America. No doubt, how can anyone be the same person they were before they set out on such an adventure? But there is a commonality to life on land, no matter which city we visit. Humans working to get to the next thing - the next meal, the next job, the next lover, the next experience. It's a driving motion that succefully distracts from the perspective that the blue horizon line offers.

That said, I have heard folks on this ship express the exact opposite feeling about Days at Sea vs. Days in Port. I have also heard the moans of boredom from some of the passengers and I have watched this staff step up their usual excellent service to incorporate classes in knitting, drawing, crafts, dance, cooking and more. I find this peculiar. When we set out for the 49 day trip, we mentally and emotionally set ourselves up, months in advance, for the span of time we would be away from the everyday. I miss my home and my Basil dog and Pongo Parrot as well as our close group of compadres, but I am not done with this time and I am far from bored, especially on the Days At Sea, of which we now have a gracious three of them between Manta, Ecuador and Acupulco, Mexico.

This driving force of being on land, has been the main tool used to allow us to produce high-end Jazz Concerts around the Monterey Bay for 9 years and then to take a leap of faith straight into pioneering a new business model for internet radio. Just about every morning becomes I find the internal battle brewing. I have found that one email can lead to missing both breakfast and lunch and although things get done, this only clears the way for the next task. I find myself caught in the exhausting spiral of "if I could just finish one more thing."

I try to find my way to the Asilomar walking path around the tip of the Pacific Grove Peninsula with our spry Aussie Shepherd, as much as possible. But the internal battle to just sit and watch the waves fights with the on land drive of getting to the next task. I have not yet found the internal balance that this ship's schedule offers.

Most folks would understand this level of work ethic, but I am slowly having it unwravel in my mind as we drift from the Atlantic and now into the Pacific. Strapped by a slow internet connection and a demanding schedule of "At Sea, At Port," I have not been able to work nearly the way I did at home; yet the company is running and I am getting far more done in small batches of concentrated time pockets, then I previously imagined. I can't help but see this glaring deficit in my thinking about what it is to "work."

I have not yet arrived at any profound conclusion to this new awareness that the At Sea days provide, but like experiencing the people, cultures and food as part of everyone else's "every day," I have learned just as much, if not more, about my life by having the time and space to reflect as the wake of the Splendor blends softly into the lulling swells of the Pacific and I am profoundly grateful for this. ~dkp