Making Waves in 2020 – 2022

Chris and I like following the Cruise Channel on the ship’s entertainment system where a live map of our route is displayed. On our 2017 voyage, the line reflected our straight and fast trajectory to get across the Pacific Ocean. In 2020, we watched our course divert, sometimes at the very last minute, from ports that turned us away as the corona virus spread. In 2022, the map displayed intersecting loops and curves as we moved slowly and over shorter distances during our pandemic-influenced itinerary.

Two and a half years ago, I set out to “make waves” sailing to over 20 ports around the world on two consecutive Semester at Sea voyages. Interrupted by a global pandemic, I was excited to come “full circle” to finish my adventure in Spring 2022. As it turned out, this voyage wasn’t about completing something at all. It was about continuing it. Rather than coming full circle, we rode the waves in loops and curves keeping Semester at Sea afloat, building relationships and community, and challenging ourselves.

The ship is a second home where we feel safe and loved. Its officers and crew are family from whom I’ve learned kindness, acceptance, and tenacity. Through this profound shared experience, I’ve grown closer to my mom, Chris, and Olivia and adopted an additional mom in Linda Clark, a model of grace, positivity, and acceptance. We have new relationships with family in Sweden and friends made in other ports. And we have a community filled with lifelong friendships forged as the VoLT unraveled each new puzzle, the field team made magic happen, staculty and student life teams did backflips to deliver coursework and programing, and the students and LLLs persisted and flourished through it all.

This semester was filled with joy and wonder. We were pushed to our limits, we persevered, and we thrived. And in the end, Ted Lasso’s words ring truer than ever, “I feel like we fell out of the lucky tree and hit every branch on the way down, ended up in a pool of cash and Sour Patch Kids.” Now, how soon can we book tickets to San Diego to see Will?!

We were surprised on the gangway with welcome home hugs from our friend and SAS CEO, Scott Marshall, before we entered a terminal bustling with voyagers gathering luggage, meeting family and hailing cabs. Mom and Linda were just outside waiting for their van to Bremen, so we got to give them one more hug and as we left, the rest of the lifelong learners chanted a “Bing Bong! Bing Bong!” farewell. We walked with Bob to our hotel where we rested before going to dinner with the home office staff and Voyage Leadership Team. We were grateful for time together to try to begin wrapping our minds around what we had done. As we reminisced, a taxi drove by and Luke jumped out, running across the street to say good-bye on his way to the airport. Feeling deeply how much I would miss my field office partner and friend, the reality of the end began to set in.

We watched the sun set into the North Sea with the student life team who were also staying the night in Bremen. Taeko and I danced the “foot shake” one more time, and we said more good-byes. The next morning, Liz, Brian and their sweet dog, Farlo, took us to the train station in their van. Bound for England, we were off on our next adventure.

We scaffolded our re-entry beginning with a week at Olivia’s home in Exeter. We walked around campus, down to the Quay and to a new pub along the River Exe called Double Locks. We exercised, ate scones and clotted cream, and took the train on a daytrip and picnic to Dawlish, a sleepy coastal town that is “home to the black swan.” Together with friends Joel and Tierry Henry (the sweetest little French Bulldog on the planet), we traveled to Newton Abbot to watch Tierry’s mom, Zoe, play football for the Exeter City Women and celebrated when she was named player of the year. Later in the week we watched two Exeter City men’s matches. In a sold-out stadium next door to Olivia’s apartment, fans erupted when the team won and was promoted to the next level.

On a whim, we boarded the train to St. Ives, a charming seaside village in Cornwall. Here, cobblestone streets lined with artist studios and fishing cottages climb steep hills above sandy beaches and a boat lined harbor. We stayed in an Air B and B, walked for miles along the shore, ate freshly caught sea bass, and celebrated our remarkable daughter over cocktails at a bar overlooking the sea.

We ended our time in England with tickets to Hamilton at the Victoria Palace Theatre near Buckingham Palace. The show was beyond extraordinary, the setting magical, and the company delightful! The next morning, after yet another scone, we rode the Heathrow Express from Paddington Station to the airport where we boarded a plane for Iceland.

During our SAS voyage, we perfected the art of traveling without a plan, and Iceland in April was a perfect “no plan” destination. Beyond its incomparable natural beauty, it is simple and uncrowded. We rented a car and with Chris behind the wheel, Olivia riding shotgun, and me navigating from the backseat, we drove, using the Google Maps app to find highly rated restaurants and attractions “near me.” When something looked good, we adjusted our route. It didn’t always work, but most of the time we were awed by the next breathtaking sight or delicious meal.

During our first evening we ate fish and local appetizers in Hafnarfjorour at a small family-owned pub called Von Mathus before checking into the Hotel South Coast in Selfoss. At the recommendation of the hotel clerk, we drove to nearby Hveragerdi where we found the trailhead for Reykjadalur Hot Springs. We hiked the steep and winding trail past spectacular waterfalls tumbling down rocky outcroppings and boiling pools that expelled plumes of steam. After about three kilometers, we changed into our suits and melted into the soothing hot river, still light as day at 10 p.m.

During the next two days, we saw key attractions on the Golden Circle. We followed a path above the Kerio Volcano bed, peering down into its crisp and clear blue water, marveled at the Strokkur Geysir that erupted up to 100 feet in the air every 5 to 7 minutes, and walked around the powerful Gullfoss Waterfall that plunged down two tiers into the River Hvítá below. We explored in Thingvellir National Park, walking across two continents between the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates, and strolled along the black sand of Thorli Beach. We snacked on Icelandic specialties like greenhouse grown cucumbers and chocolate covered licorice and enjoyed the most amazing breakfast buffets.

Driving back to Reykjavik, we wandered upon a small attraction called Krýsuvík. Described as a geothermal area, this beautiful hike accentuated the “otherworldly” feel of Iceland. As we climbed to a beautiful view at the top of the hill, bright yellow, red and green rocks intermingled with black mud, while bubbling pools of hot water emitted steam and the smell of sulphur.

We spent one day in Reykjavík where we ascended the observation tower in Hallgrímskirkja church, shopped along Rainbow Street, and opted not to explore beyond the lobby of the Icelandic Phallological Museum. We ate an Icelandic hotdog from the Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur (The City’s Best Hotdog) Stand made famous by Bill Clinton’s visit in 2004 and tried a sampler plate of traditional Icelandic food at the iconic Café Loki. The smoked trout and rye bread ice cream were both delicious, but we all agreed the fermented shark and mashed fish will likely never cross our lips again.

Relieved after one more negative COVID test that was required to fly home, we spent our last morning at the Blue Lagoon, a geothermal spa with water rich in silica and sulphur which is supposed to be good for the skin and all kinds of ailments. Together, the three of us lounged in the steamy warmth of the pools while sipping mimosas, applying silica face masks, and feeling so much gratitude for time together in this stunning country. As time to depart approached, we slowly inched our way toward the exit pausing to soak in the warmest spots, when a familiar face emerged. Reinforcing the truth that our SAS family is never far away, Anika, one of our ship daughters grinned in disbelief through the steam. We hugged, compared travel notes and promised to connect back in the states.

At the airport with several hours to spare, we savored the time with Olivia eating Icelandic chocolate and searching for souvenirs. With no more ports of call and the completion of her dissertation looming, this good-bye was the hardest. We walked to her gate and lingered until the last call, sending her off with hugs and a silly dad joke. As we walked back across the airport, we heard the familiar call, “Hey Dean Bing Bong!” from two more SASers who would be on our flight to Denver.

And before we knew it, we were home. Jonah and Lianne met us at DIA, and we sorted through the fog of re-entry. A giant yard card from Christy Marshall welcomed us back, and Cache and Juniper reminded us that we were missed. Like Pooh says, “How lucky [are we] to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard,” and coming back so wonderful.

We had one more night in Sweden. Chris returned to the ship while the girls stayed at a hotel in Stockholm. With red wine we toasted to family and fell asleep before finishing our glasses. The next morning, we shopped for souvenirs, ferried across the harbor, and channeled our best Dancing Queens at the Abba Museum before taxiing to the port and sending Liv back to Exeter. I hate good-byes, but this one was a little easier knowing we would see her again in just over a week.

Back on the ship, we went to work. After months of honing embarkation processes, we moved through them smoothly and were relieved to be staging our final ship wide COVID test. Though Sweden had no COVID requirements, Germany still mandated testing and ten days of quarantine for all positive cases. Beyond the disruption of travel plans, this raised concerns about Schengen Visa limits and questions about who would support those in quarantine after the voyage was over. The leadership team had been brainstorming options, collaborating with the home office, and working with the captain. After hours of emails and phone calls, the final decision was made to test for the last time at embarkation in Sweden. Any positive cases would disembark, and we would sail into Germany “COVID-free.” Sadly, three students tested positive and had to leave us, and several lifelong learners chose to end their voyages early because they were worried about quarantine requirements.

Over the next week, we ramped up and wound down all at the same time. The things we accomplished seemed almost miraculous. Bruce, Laura, and Melissa from the home office were aboard to conduct debrief meetings and support packing. At the end of each spring voyage, the ship transforms into the MS Deutschland to sail several short-term summer tours with the Phoenix Reisen cruise company. Consequently, all Semester at Sea equipment and supplies must be boxed for storage. Staculty and crew began packing, while the ship’s management company went to work changing logos and replacing furniture. All the while, classes continued to meet, and activities moved forward.

Our route took us south from Stockholm, and the captain hosted a staff reception on his patio as we sailed under the Great Belt, a combination suspension bridge and railway tunnel connecting two islands of Denmark. We had a spectacular view with wine and hors d’oeuvres, and Captain Kostas surprised Cindy and me with the chance to sound the horn as we sailed under the bridge!

As usual, our resident directors were impressive as they collaborated to support students and build community. Amanda and Mike lovingly handled student discipline issues, while Leah supported mental health concerns and Noah managed end-of-voyage events. Liz guided a group of students who developed World X, a “Ted X” type evening with presentations focused on diversity, equity, inclusion, and justice. Taeko organized a fabulous day of re-entry programming with panel discussions and break-out groups. Chris and I were excited to take part in the life after SAS section, sharing about our experience in the Peace Corps.

As registrar, Heather was responsible for organizing convocation, and she knocked it out of the park. There was a processional to Pomp and Circumstance, and a group of students sang the SAS alma mater. Captain Kostas spoke about the extraordinary accomplishment of completing this voyage and received a standing ovation of gratitude for his leadership. Two graduates, Victor and Maja, spoke eloquently about their SAS experience and two faculty, June Cotte and Patrick Mahoney, challenged students to carry that experience forward. We were so proud that Mom and friend Dan Bianca were selected to speak representing the LLLs. As integral members of the community, they offered the perfect balance of humor, sentiment, and wisdom.

A myriad of other activities filled the days. Phill and a group of students organized an Easter service, the ship kids led an egg scavenger hunt, a group of students observed Ramadan, and Harlee led a Seder service to a packed house. Chris coordinated taco nights and sundae parties for small groups and arranged for Captain Kostas and Dexter to play the winners of the Sea Olympics ping pong tournament. We organized a competition for packing luggage, and in an attempt to get a minority of disrespectful voyagers to maintain masking and social distancing, Perry and Belkin to make a thoughtful plea on behalf of the crew over the Bing Bong.

We held thank-you gatherings for our student life assistants and with the Sea Council and had one more get together with our ship family where we snapped sunset photos and exchanged contact information. Chris and I took the Lindas to fine dining to celebrate the enthusiasm and tenacity that made them the best ship mates possible and to acknowledge both as lifelong members of Team Seng. The VoLT organized the traditional alumni ball, and though it was modified to accommodate social distancing, students and staculty dressed up, took pictures, reveled in time together and acknowledged the unbelievable adventure we had shared.

Amidst it all, we lingered over breakfast conversations with Paul, Ken and Hyla, Ursula and Stepanka and stayed too long in the Chappy bantering with Henry or playing Quiddler. We tried to capture every sunrise and sunset and during breaks from studying, students gathered signatures for voyage maps.

In one final push, after trying the entire semester, Chris convinced the ship’s officers to open the swimming pool that had been closed due to repairs, weather and COVID. We had a single afternoon, and because we were sailing through the North Sea in April, we organized it as a Polar Plunge. Voyagers lined up, stepped into the pool one by one, swam across and exited to warm towels on the other side. Many participated willingly, while others acquiesced when the crowd chanted encouragement. Dean Bing Bong was the first one in, and I stayed warm and dry capturing photos safely from the sidelines!

Luke, Kaley and I packed boxes in the field office as we pulled alongside in Bremerhaven a day early, spending our last night “at sea” docked. We created one more green sheet with emergency information for Bremerhaven, and our final logistical pre-port was planned and conducted by students. Sharing their best impressions of the leadership team, Foster and friends drew laughter, applause, and tears. At the end, the VoLT gathered arm in arm on stage with a message of gratitude from Shaun to an incredible and resilient shipboard community.

At 7 a.m. on April 20, with bags packed and stacked high on Deck 9, Dean Bing Bong stationed himself at the reception desk and called the seas in sequence for the last time. A fortuitous safety hazard afforded me the opportunity to stand at the gangway to ensure no one fell off the ship. More importantly, I was able to say good-bye to every, single voyager. Though I do hate good-byes, this was a gift. Lifelong learners, John and Joan, led the way with their “first off the ship” auction winnings. Then, one by one with tears streaming, voyagers dragged bags and fumbled with ship IDs as they went ashore.

After the last hug, I found Chris at the reception desk looking as lost as I felt. The ship was empty, and she seemed lonely. It was time. My tears welled as Chris placed the Bing Bong behind the desk. We grabbed our bags, breathed deep, and disembarked.

The SAS family extends far and wide, and with each voyage it grows. By the time we returned after finishing pastries in Copenhagen, our student life family was already managing embarkation. Welcomed with the best hugs and a quick review of the day, it was as always, good to be home. Voyagers queued at the gangway to go through security, then get their COVID tests. Leaving family behind was always hard, so we were happy to welcome back those who had been quarantined in Greenock and especially excited for the return of 13 students who, due to visa issues, had to disembark in France and stay in Andorra while we traveled through Scotland.  We had been thrilled to cross paths with crew members who were on shore leave in Copenhagen, and we traded stories in the spa with Shruti and Karin and in the Lilli Marleen with Dexter. By now we were efficient and well-practiced, so COVID testing went smoothly and after the last voyagers went through the line, we celebrated our first time ever with zero positive cases!

Captain Kostas delayed our departure until early the next morning so we could sail by daylight under the spectacular Øresund Bridge connecting Denmark and Sweden, and we immersed ourselves in meetings preparing for Stockholm. Like Copenhagen, all COVID restrictions had been lifted in Sweden. However, Germany, where the voyage would end, maintained strict testing and quarantine requirements. We discussed our path forward and brainstormed ways to motivate voyagers to continue to follow COVID protocols.

Classes met, and evenings were filled with activities. A special group of student friends had won a night in the Chappy at the shipboard auction, and they invited some staculty to join them for a “black tie” affair. What a joy to share this time with them as Foster bellied up to the bar and Ava and Emily belted lyrics to Stephen’s piano accompaniment.

Our comms team kept busy with Brooke working on the end of voyage video and Zach juggling busy schedules and unpredictable weather to capture group photos that had been delayed due to quarantine and diversions. Whether watching the entire ship’s crew pose on Deck 9, acting silly with the RDs using a life preserver photo prop, or chanting “proud to be a CSU Ram” before the home school pic, I took my own mental snapshots. Knowing our time together was fleeting, I hoped to capture the depth of feelings of love and family to save in my memories.

The highlight of this leg was the Crew Talent Show performed twice on two nights to accommodate social distancing. From the engine room to the deck crew, housing and dining staff to admin, crew members had been practicing behind the scenes for weeks. Though this traditional event is held as a fundraiser for the crew welfare fund, it was clear that it was a labor of love that allowed them to shared parts of themselves beyond their roles on the ship. It was awesome to see their smiling faces as they had permission to be on stage without masks! Tom and Angelu awed the audience with elaborate winged costumes for their Filipino Dinagyang festival ritual, as did Chandra who performed an elegant Nepalese dance. Jeremiah sang beautifully. Edwin entertained with a hilarious lip sync rendition of “Learn to Love Again” by Pink, and Chael brought all the performers together as he shared a moving message of love and community. Voyagers erupted when our cabin stewards and waiters took their pool bar moves to the next level singing and dancing. Bidding wars for paintings by Perry, Karin, and Elvin ensued and Mike Mann, emcee extraordinaire, made us laugh and cry as we set a record in money raised for our dedicated, hard-working, and immensely talented crew family.

Over the next days, Abba songs filled the Union during Global Studies and Pre-port, and it felt impossible not to dance. The early morning approach to Sweden was the most beautiful yet as the ship weaved for miles and hours through the Stockholm Archipelago. The landscape of fishing cabins tucked in among pine trees was reminiscent of the boundary waters in northern Minnesota. Some of the passages were so narrow, I could almost reach out and touch lingering patches of snow. With our bags packed, Mom, Chris and I anxiously anticipated a family adventure that had been years in the making.

A wind turbine lined landscape guided the way to the port in Copenhagen. With Chris laid up and no time to research, Denmark was filled with spontaneous adventures. Once the ship cleared, we had our standard first morning meeting with the local tour operator. Luis, who was originally from Venezuela, lived just across the border in Malmo, Sweden. He had been running a successful tour company for many years but took a big hit during COVID. He was so excited we were there and bent over backwards to help us feel welcome. On our way to a local coffee shop, he stopped the car to offer directions to students who were walking into town. We even picked up Ursula and Volker and drove them to their Air B&B. After reviewing our field excursions, I decided to explore the area near our port. It was peaceful walking solo through the gardens lined with fountains and trees. Not far was the bronze Little Mermaid statue based on the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale and the Polar Bear with Cubs statue that has bullet holes shot by a German soldier during the occupation of Denmark during World War II. With plenty of work looming, my afternoon ended perfectly back at the coffee shop with my laptop sitting at the window overlooking the Sound connecting the Baltic and North Seas.

Though disappointing not to share Copenhagen with Chris, other travel companions made the port stay special. I spent a fabulous first day with Bob and Celeste Kling. We met along the waterfront in Nyhavn. Just as depicted in postcards and paintings, brightly colored row homes stood alongside cafes and bars with patio dining next to a canal filled with restored wooden sailing ships and modern canal tour boats. After coffee and conversation, we began wandering the city. First, we explored the 17^th century Round Tower. Light reflected through windows onto white walls and archways as we wound up the stone equestrian staircase to a beautiful view of rooftops across the city. We examined a unique exhibit entitled, “On the Loo with the Poet,” that highlighted a privy built within the walls that was said to be used by authors and poets who were working in the building’s library, and we peered down the tower’s hollow core to the ground below. At the top, an exhibit celebrated Hans Christian Anderson who lived in Nyhavn and wrote many of his stories in the tower’s library (or perhaps in the privy)! In the courtyard below, we stumbled upon a group of SAS lifelong learners, including the Lindas, at a Danish hotdog stand. Though typically not a big sausage fan, this hot dog with its crusty bun, mustard, fried onions and pickled cucumber was the best I’ve ever eaten. Refueled, we crossed town for another spectacular view, this time accessed by a staircase circling the outside of the Church of our Savior. We climbed steep steps and ladders through the bell tower to a first level balcony. Then Bob led the ascent up a staircase winding around the outside of the spire which narrowed to an end and a point at the top and revealed square courtyards with gardens and swing sets in the neighborhoods below. Returning to solid ground, we met Michael, Sheila and Stepanka at a sweet little restaurant called Amalie where we shared local cheese and fish served on traditional blue Danish dinnerware with white wine and steam beer.

After the most lovely day, full of gratitude for Bob and Celeste and our friendship that began on our 2017 voyage, we parted ways when they met up with local friends. As I mapped my way back to the ship, I realized I was very close to Freetown Christiana. This self-governing “hippie commune” is known for its anarchist ways and cannabis trade. Walls and brightly colored graffiti marked the entrance to a different world way outside my comfort zone. I walked along the dirt pedestrian alleys past shops selling souvenirs and drug paraphernalia, snapped a few photos and moved on. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to be a part of the most bike friendly city in the world, I downloaded the DonkeyRide app and jumped on “James.” DonkeyRide names all its bikes to make it easy to identify the one you choose. I pedaled James over and around canals and through neighborhoods to meet some SASers at Reffen, a magical street food market with dozens of stands selling organic food from around the world. As it began to get dark and we were walking home, Amy and Kaley came by on their DonkeyRide bikes.  I hopped on the front of Amy’s, and she muscled our way down the street in search of another bike. Much to Amy’s relief, we soon found “Isabelle” and the three of us rode over the canal past Nyhavn and the Little Mermaid to our home on the ship.

I spent another magnificent day walking and talking with Taeko Kelly, one of our incredibly talented resident directors. Chris joined us at a nearby coffee shop for breakfast then returned to the ship while Taeko and I wandered. We shopped a bit, stopped for tea and chocolates, and solved world problems while solidifying a forever friendship.

I was on field duty in Copenhagen, so my mornings were spent dispatching and visiting with Luis. Because Chris couldn’t walk far, Luis was so kind to take him on a short driving tour of the city and then to one of Luis’ favorite restaurants called Vita. Here we explored the traditional Danish Smorrebrod, made with dense, malty rye bread, creamy rich butter, and a variety of toppings like fish, avocado, or meatballs that are intricately layered. These open-faced sandwiches are not only delicious, but they are also works of art.

Chris’ rest and Dr. Elizabeth’s cabin calls paid off as the swelling in his leg went down, so on our last night, he was able to taxi to the Pescatarian restaurant where we met Liz and Marvel. We hadn’t planned on fancy dining, but it turned out this restaurant served a set menu of four courses with wine pairings. The food was incredible and the plating exquisite as the chef described each course before it was served.

Our last day in Copenhagen was cold and wet and windy. What better place to spend such a day than the Happiness Museum?! Dan, Lisa, the Lindas, Phill and I enjoyed learning about Scandinavia’s high happiness ratings and the research behind it. After lunch, the rain subsided, and we walked back in search of one final Danish pastry. We warmed up with coffee and treats at a café Mom and I had found on a previous morning and relished this special time with extraordinary people in the happiest country in the world.

Excitement bubbled as we prepared for departure from Greenock. We had been blessed with unseasonably beautiful weather in Scotland, and voyagers shared stories of hikes in the Highlands, adventures to Loch Ness, or outings to comedy shows and jazz clubs. They debated which was better, Edinburgh or Glasgow, and many agreed that now THIS was their favorite port.

And yet, as always, the ship remained the best port of all, where life was filled with generosity and meaningful experiences. Captain Kostas and his officers held the student experience front of mind in every decision, the security team kept things running smoothly, the reception crew responded to all requests with smiles and warmth, the kitchen, dining, and spa staff attended to every wish with kindness and grace, and our cabin steward, Achilles, patiently cared for us and our beautiful space. Upon return from Scotland, a surprise was waiting in our cabin. On the table was a small plastic bucket, carefully decorated with colored paper and labeled, “Mrs. Stephanie Seng.” Inside was a birthday gift for Olivia from Suhendra, a colorful bouquet of napkins carefully folded, twisted and pinched into carnations, dahlias, and roses.

The temporary berth in Greenock made it impossible to get water and fuel there, so we made a next day provision stop in Belfast. While we couldn’t disembark, it was fun to see Ireland. It was a beautiful day. At breakfast, Perry stood on the deck and soaked in the bright orange sunrise before filling my coffee thermos, and Daril was excited to tell about his shore leave in Scotland. Throughout the day, students studied at the tables outside, lounged by the unfilled pool and ordered smoothies from Dexter at the bar. Elsa and I were even able to capture some time on the volleyball court. Once fully provisioned, we stood on the deck as the ship pulled away and watched hundreds of dolphins escort us back out to sea.

Because we’d been able to keep COVID managed, the captain began offering bridge tours for the first time on the voyage. Both the VoLT and the Student Life team enjoyed private tours where we watched radar detect other ships in the distance and took photos sitting in the captain’s chair. I even got the honor of “driving” the ship, accelerating with sweaty palms at the captain’s command.

To celebrate yet another successful port, the field team stepped out of the comfort of flannels and hoodies for a formal fine dining experience. Luke, Kaley and I savored each scrumptious course and time together not working. On the same night, Chris hosted a table with Jesse, Phill and Henry to show gratitude for their hard work and friendship, and we were able to toast the 21^st birthday of our ship daughter, Kyla, who was celebrating with friends at the next table.

Voyage Crosscurrents were in full swing. These one-hour evening presentations allowed staculty members to share areas of interest or expertise with the community. We’ve learned about Jazz, Plankton, the Mediterranean Diet, Pirates, and the History of Forks among many other topics. During this stretch, music professor Michael Kaloyanides convened a band of faculty and students who performed the song Louie Louie as an introduction to his presentation about the song’s history. The community danced and clapped and had a ball with this talented bunch, and as an encore, Lew Cutter joined the group for a raucous rendition of “Gloria” by Van Morrison.

As we made our way up the North Atlantic past the Isle of Skye, rounded the tip of Scotland through the Orkney Islands and entered the North Sea, temperatures began to dip, and Olympic fever grew red hot! Sea captains met and events were assigned. Teams began work on banners and door decorations and practiced for the lip sync and chant competitions. The VoLT and Student Life teams deliberated and discussed, sorting through each activity and how all could be accomplished while remaining COVID safe. Mike Mann, the RD whose collateral assignment was Sea Olympics, poured his heart and soul into the event and his passion for success, both in having fun and staying safe, was contagious. The Staculty team was all in. Ursula was our mascot, adorned with seaweed, ocean trash and Christmas lights, and our team banner highlighted her image. Our cabin door was skillfully decorated with drawings and origami depicting the trials and tribulations of our Odyssey to date, and the appropriateness of our chant was debated. Event teams were formed and spa manager, Karen, shaved the numbers 129 in Chris’ scalp.

On the morning of March 30, it began to snow, and Mike opened the 129^th SAS Olympic Games! Added to my “who’da thought?” list was playing volleyball on a ship in the snow through the North Sea. While we didn’t win, Ken, Stepanka and I held our own and had a blast. Staculty swept the Tug-of-War and the Backward Spelling Bee while competing well in Trivia and Spoons. Chris, Phill and I made it to the basketball finals, bringing in June Cotte and Dan Bianca for some exhaustion relief to secure the championship. This spectacular day ended with a standing ovation for the staculty lip sync led by Zhanna Gurvich, a hilarious rendition of Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show featuring Art History Professor, Henry, in fishnet stockings.

Exhausted and exhilarated, the shipboard community basked in the aftermath of such a special community bonding event. We celebrated Mike and his team of sea captains with standing ovations and ice cream sundaes. With freezing temperatures and icy decks, we persevered through outdoor, COVID safe gatherings to share tacos with the student life team and chocolate with alums from the Spring 2020 voyage. Unfortunately, Chris missed much of the post-Olympic fun because he sustained an injury on the basketball court. A severe hematoma on his hip resulted in a swollen and purple hip, and Dr. Elizabeth confined him to our cabin to ice and elevate. Always keen to empower students, Chris opened the Bing Bong for some of them to give the announcements while he was laid up, and we began preparations for our Denmark Logistical Pre-Port.

April Fools’ made for a fun day of preparations. Kaley, Luke and I created a “Kingdom of Denmark” green sheet with silly emergency information and fun field programs. Bravo and Ingrid would be RDs on Duty, the pool would be open with clothing optional, and Danish trolls were listed as a safety concern. Dexter would lead an Ice Cream Sundae field class and the med team would lead one called the Science of Potable Tap water. Chris wrote a series of April Fools’ announcements that were delivered by Luke while Foster, Hallie, and Bob joked in Pre-Port that we were returning to Gibraltar and Phill DuVentre would be taking over as Captain. And as we laughed, we reflected on the amazing week we had on the ship, the best port yet.

Leaving Brest, voyagers embraced the sense of normalcy we found during the previous leg and set high goals for our short, three-day sail to Scotland.

After accommodating immigration officials who came aboard to stamp passports while coordinating COVID testing during embarkation, Shaun gathered the Staculty for a voyage update followed by a reception in the Lido Terrace. These kinds of gatherings happen several times over the course of a typical voyage, but this was our first. We visited over wine and hors d’oeuvres, and when our entrepreneurship professor and jazz enthusiast, Stephen Preece, sat down to the piano, we began to sing. As people joined in, faces brightened and the room felt lighter.

Student life programming was in full swing, and our RDs were on their game. The voyager talent show brought to stage even more gifts as students and staculty shared through song, dance, and spoken word. During a moving Take back the Night event, survivors shared their stories and the community walked together around the top deck in support. The VoLT celebrated our team with a night of special dining with seven courses as delicious as any food we had eaten in port, while the RDs also came together at special dining, compliments of a SAS Alum whose generous donation acknowledged how incredibly special and deserving they are.

Many hours were spent planning and preparing for Sea Olympics. This traditional SAS event, planned by RD Mike and his crew of Sea Captains, had been pushed back on the calendar due to diversions and our on-board COVID quarantine. Scheduled between Greenock and Copenhagen, we decided to make our Scotland Pre-Port theme be “Pre-Sea Olympics.” With the staculty watching the event from the Lido Terrace to accommodate social distancing, students dressed in their sea colors and sat in the Union by sea group. As Foster and Halley, the Oklahoma University students who have been emceeing our Logistical Pre-Port meetings, called the disembarkation order, sea captains ran one by one across the stage. With each announcement, students pumped their fists and cheered for their seas. The energy exploded as smiles beamed through the eyes of mask covered faces.

Turning our attention to Scotland, Foster shared information about electrical outlets and the weather, which looked surprisingly mild. Halley described the location of our berth and how to find a taxi in Greenock. The student life team offered “Savvy Traveler” advice and the medical team encouraged safe and healthy behavior through silly songs and skits. During our turn, the field team reminded voyagers about travel policies, encouraged enrollment in our new Copenhagen programs, and drew names for our Program Evaluation raffle winners. Via recording, Bob offered “hellos and good-byes” to voyagers who would be leaving and arriving in Greenock. As Shaun and Chris wrapped the evening and Sea Olympic energy spread throughout the ship, the VoLT gathered in the captain’s quarters for a late-night check-in call with the home office.

A giant, bright red sunrise escorted us alongside in Greenock, Scotland the next morning. Olivia had arrived the night before, and we were excited to see her again. Living in England, it is easy and inexpensive for her to travel through Europe. She had plans to spend time in Scotland with her friend from high school, Elsa, who is sailing with us, but we had reserved time with her on our first day and were anxious to disembark. Like Brest, Greenock looked very industrial with cranes and shipping crates, and because the port was being renovated, the ship was tied onto a floating “pontoon” berth. We exited down the gangway, over a ramp, through the first security check point, and as we crossed the bus parking lot, Chris caught sight of Liv and ran to swing her around in a giant hug. As others disembarked, Chris proudly introduced Olivia to students and staculty, and she was happy to see Ursula, Lew and MaryAnn, friends from her 2017 SAS voyage.

A taxi driver, Tommy, offered to take us on a tour at an hourly rate, so we jumped in and began to learn about Scottish lochs and castles. We crossed the Erskine bridge over the River Clyde on our way to Loch Lomond within Trossachs National Park. This beautiful lake is familiar from the song, The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond:

Oh, ye’ll tak the high road, and I’ll tak the low road,

And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye;

But me and my true love will never meet again

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

We walked along the shore as ducks and kayaks gently moved through the mirror-smooth water of the loch, then into the sweet little village of Luss, postcard picturesque with stone cottage-lined streets. We wandered into a small café and bit into a delicious piece of heaven disguised as a scone with jam and clotted cream. Hearts and stomachs full, Tommy taxied us to Glasgow where we stopped at the Pot Still, an award-winning whiskey bar that opened in 1867. We savored the moments before sending Olivia off with Elsa and friends.

Chris and I returned to the ship, and with little happening in Greenock, we packed our bags and bought two train tickets to Edinburgh. With about half the shipboard community in town, it was fun to see SASers out and about. We stayed in the same hotel as the Lindas, and friends Harlee, Dan and Lisa. We shared lunch with Ken and Hyla and ran into Coleen and Jeff Burke and family, as well as many students, including Olivia, along the Royal Mile. From the Edinburgh Castle to the Palace of Hollyroodhouse, bagpipes serenaded and the smell of fish and chips wafted through the air. Tartans and crests adorned shop windows and street performers enchanted with magic tricks and sideshows. We had a cozy dinner with the Lindas and a group of staculty at The Cellar Door where we stretched our comfort zone and tried Haggis, a traditional Scottish dish made of various and sundry parts of a sheep!

Our second day was bookended by a sunrise hike and the Great Whiskey Experience with a tunnel ghost tour with in between! Almost every SASer we encountered in Edinburgh had hiked Arthur’s Seat, including my mom and Oliva! Arthur’s Seat is an extinct volcano named after King Arthur and rumored to be the site of Camelot. We were feeling some serious FOMO (fear of missing out), so we caught a 5 a.m. taxi to the trailhead. The path was lined with acres of common gorse, its bright yellow flowers glowing as the daylight peeked in. We made it to the top just as the sun rose above the horizon, huge and orange and round.  Sitting atop the rock, we breathed in gratitude for the moment and the beautiful views of the Firth of Forth that connects Edinburgh to the North Sea.

Later, we met the Lindas for a ghost tour in the tunnels below Edinburgh. Built in 1785, these eerie vaults housed bars and workshops and provided cover for illegal whiskey distilleries and gambling venues. They also hid corpses stolen by body snatchers, or so it is said. We quelled our ghostly fears with a final scone before the Lindas and friends returned to Greenock for their field program the following day. Liv was returning from a day trip to Loch Ness, so Chris and I delayed our departure. We passed the time at the Great Whiskey Experience at son Will’s recommendation. Like port wine in Portugal, learning about the processes involved made the whiskey taste so much better! We met Liv’s bus just in time to take her out for a 24^th birthday dinner before catching the last train to Greenock.

The next morning, along the bonnie banks of the River Clyde, we enjoyed a walk before Chris needed to return to his ship duties. I continued down the esplanade to a cute little town called Guerock. Like a normal Saturday at home, families gathered at the park for youth soccer and runners jogged with strollers and dog leashes. Filled with gratitude, I stopped at the Tesco to buy supplies for our upcoming Sea Olympics and embarked early to welcome our voyagers home.

Due to a storm crossing the Atlantic, Captain Kostas announced we’d be staying alongside in Lisbon an extra day, though everyone would stay on the ship. It didn’t seem that anyone minded, as the view of Lisbon was lovely. We used the time to manage on-boarding and off-loading recovered and COVID positive passengers and for our communication team, Zach and Brooke, to take a chilly all-ship photo from the dock.

Early March 12, we departed Lisbon in the rain, sailing out the way we came through the River Tagus then heading north up the Atlantic Ocean. Even with the delay, swells grew to 16 feet and passengers rolled and pitched. We weaved from one side of the hall to the other. Paces slowed as the front of the ship rose from the sea, then bodies propelled forward as it descended. Some enjoyed the ride while others, green with seasickness, found refuge in bed.

A longer stretch at sea allowed time for some traditional SAS activities. We held an ice cream social in the Lido Terrace to show our appreciation for student assistants. Especially deserving were Molly, Karishma, Tiffany and Rachel who were steadfast staffing the field desk through multiple itinerary changes. We held the shipboard drive and auction to raise money for student scholarships where a coveted auction item was a “Dean Bing Bong” hat and the chance to be “the voice” for a day’s announcements. Each event required multiple meetings, discussions, and proposals to be sure we could maintain masking, social distancing and other COVID protocols while creating an opportunity for fun and bonding. One night, we gathered in the Chappy with the ship’s officers and some crew for a surprise going away celebration for Staff Captain Petros who was ending his eight-month shift in Brest. As he entered the Chappy, his eyes sparkled with genuine appreciation at the unexpected gesture. We toasted and shared cake, laughed about rubber chickens and reminisced about our time together.

In my role with student life, Shaun, Cindy and I met with the student Sea Council. We discussed their frustrations with “on-ship time” and questions about COVID testing and protocols. They proposed that peanut butter be served at dinner time. We debated whether it was ethical to visit Poland while their neighbors were at war and brainstormed ways we could support Ukrainian refugees. I felt honored to be a part of this group of thoughtful and engaged students.

The pandemic, while never absent from our conversations, loomed large with 17 positive cases after our time in Portugal. As the captain spoke with French port agents, we made plans to disembark new positive cases in Brest and return to the ship those quarantined in Lisbon. We monitored France’s unique requirements that seemed to change daily, including an expensive French vaccination certificate that was mandatory first for all voyagers, then none, then maybe only those visiting a medical facility. Every day we discussed and organized our testing procedures. Our typical process immediately after embarkation is to complete antigen testing with all 500 students and staculty. Our med team and a group of volunteers move us through a check-in and test rotation around the pool deck, then send us to our rooms to wait for results. During longer stretches at sea, we repeat this process mid-leg. Those who test positive are isolated in a cabin on the ship until they can be moved to a quarantine hotel in port. Roommates are considered close contacts and are also quarantined. The med team and crew work tirelessly to care for voyagers in Q/I on the ship. ISE staff are positioned as pod leaders in each port to support those in quarantine hotels. Faculty are engaged to deliver academic content remotely for five to ten days. We are careful. Consistently wearing N95 masks indoors and out, we distance and sanitize and keep our fingers crossed. Anxiety grows before each testing time. My mind revisits previous days. Was I careful enough? Were there too many people at the event I attended? Was I near anyone who tested positive recently? I brainstorm how we would be able to continue our work from quarantine. I find myself holding back, waiting to test till I see Chris’ results. Because Chris is organizing the testing process, he generally jumps in and tests early. After 23 ship tests and more self-tests than I can count, the nasal swab is simple. We wait 30 minutes and hope to hear nothing.

Each negative test builds confidence until it doesn’t. Our friend was a close contact of a roommate who tested positive, so she had to quarantine for five days. Though we tested negative at embarkation, because we had spent time with this friend in port, the confidence quickly turned to worry. Revisiting each moment, we were together in my mind, every sniffle, cough, or hint of a headache was now a potential COVID symptom. A sense of relief accompanied each passing day that we stayed negative until just before arriving in France when an RD, who is the penultimate of careful, tested positive. In my new role, I spend hours each day meeting with the RDs, and on this leg had spent an evening socializing with them as well. Dedicated maskers, it seemed unfathomable that one of them would get COVID. As soon as I heard the news, my heart jumped to my throat and my stomach filled with butterflies. Like for our other friend, I was sick that this RD would have to spend days confined to her cabin and very worried that our entire student life staff and administrative team would have to do the same. We all self-tested regularly and breathed a collective sigh of relief with each negative result, grateful that ultimately no one else tested positive.

The day before coming alongside in Brest, France, we confirmed our COVID strategy, said our last good-byes to Staff Captain Petros, prepared our Pre-port presentation and finalized the green sheet. After dinner, Shaun pulled us aside. He would be announcing that we were diverting from Poland, he told us. The home office had been monitoring safety concerns due to the war in Ukraine for weeks but ultimately, we learned the ship would be turned away if we had even a single case of COVID on board. At Pre-port, the community was excited for France and by now so used to change, that the diversion announcement seemed to be taken in stride. That night, after Luke, Kaley and I distributed first aid kits and trip liaison folders, we returned to the field office, opened a bottle of wine, put Poland projects away and begin planning for Copenhagen, Denmark instead.

The ship cleared before 7 a.m. the next morning, so Chris and I disembarked early to find some coffee and a French pastry. The port in Brest was small and industrial with cranes for ships in dry dock and no terminal building. Just a few minutes’ walk from our berth, was a row of restaurants, bakeries and bars just awakening. Located in Brittany, Celtic influence was obvious with bilingual signs (French and Breton) and Irish pubs on many corners. The bulk of our time in Brest was spent eating! Le Remorkeur, a cute wine bar and bistro, was so good we went twice. We enjoyed pastries, baguettes, cheese, coffee, wine, and crepes. The area is known for its buckwheat crepes folded square with cheese and an egg sunny side up in the middle, as well as for their sweet crepes with local caramel folded inside.

Much to our Oceanographer Ursula’s delight, this area is also known for its high tides. In the morning when we disembarked, the gangway was a flat ramp. By 7 p.m., the tide lifted the ship so high, we walked a gangway of steep stairs. To learn more about the tides, Kaley and I led an overnight field program to Dinan, Saint Malo, and Mont Saint Michel. Chris and the Lindas joined, and with our sweet tour guide, Fannie, we walked through Dinan, a fairytale-esque medieval village located on the River Rance. Narrow, cobbled streets weaved through stone and half-timber homes with peaked rooves and wooden shutters centuries old. Boutique shops and restaurants tucked within the walls and Medieval castle turrets were juxtaposed against carnival rides set for an upcoming festival.

On to Saint Malo. A walled city that was once home to privateers, it declared itself independent from France with the motto, “Not French, Not Breton, but Malouin.” Here we walked within ancient walls past shops and homes that were repaired and rebuilt after the U.S. accidentally bombed the city during WWII. Saint Malo was also the home of François-René de Chateaubriand, a writer and politician, whose chef is credited with creating the steak that holds his name. With the highest tides in Europe, boasting a variation of over 40 feet within 6 hours, the Saint Malo coast is spectacular and dangerous. The sandy ocean floor where people walked when we arrived was flooded by angry crashing waves splashing high into the air and onto the boardwalk where Chris and I went for a sunrise stroll the next morning.

Day two of our program took us to the border between Brittany and Normandy to Mont Saint Michel, a tidal island that is holds the magnificent Mont Saint Michel Abbey. A Unesco World Heritage site, the Gothic monument built between the 11^th and 16^th centuries is an imposing site rising above either the ocean floor or giant waves depending on the timing of the tides. Traveling with students is such a unique privilege. Whether asking insightful questions, giggling while they take selfies, or engaging with staculty, I cherish the opportunity for connection with such wise young people. Javen and Ava, Lizette, Aaditya, John and so many others will always be a part of our extended family. On our drive home, Fanny played her favorite Breton music over the speaker on the bus. In the parking lot during a bathroom break, we circled together arm in arm and danced a traditional jig solidifying a bond that will last a lifetime.

During our final day in port, we savored one more coffee and pastry breakfast before Chris prepared for a morning of onboarding and off-loading students. Luke and I found our way to a hotel to help a lifelong learner who had been quarantined get her luggage back to the ship, before we went in search of snacks, souvenirs and just one more crepe. We were struck by trees that seemed to be blossoming before our eyes signaling a hint of spring. As we returned to the ship for final embarkation, we waved to our sweet RD in isolation, looking out her Deck 4 window, still smiling and representing all that is amazing about this voyage.

The Atlantic Ocean welcomed us with tranquil seas as the voyage moved forward with energy, hope, and even a little normalcy. Capitalizing on the calm, Captain Kostas and bartender, Dexter, played ping pong on Deck 7. Voyagers gathered around the table to watch as the championship level players smashed balls and made impossible returns. We found a night to return to fine dining with time to dress up and linger over our meal, we celebrated Luke’s 30^th birthday over Portuguese appetizers in the Chappy, and the students organized a second open mic night where I continued to be awe struck by the talent of students who sang, read prose and poetry, and danced.

With a four-day leg ahead, we found rhythm in a comfortable routine. Our days started with laps around Deck 9, dodging puddles from the early morning deck wash and stepping aside as Madame Ada and her assistant conducted their first meeting of the day while speed walking. At 6:30 a.m. Jose Eduardo or Suhendra waved us in for breakfast where we found two coffees, one black and the other with a splash of cream, waiting at our table. Because we were often the only two eating at the time, Daril and Perry had space to visit a bit about their families or their hopes for the upcoming port. Due to COVID, crew had been confined to the ship since embarking, but if they continued to test negative, they might each be allowed three hours leave in Lisbon. Fueled daily by fruit, oatmeal and the warmth of connection, Chris moved on to regular meetings with Shaun then the officers, while I worked in the field office and tried to catch part of Global Studies on TV. Meeting each morning, the VoLT managed persistent and newly arising challenges. In addition to the typical community programming, conduct issues, and in-port planning, we added testing, isolation/quarantine, and visa problems as standard agenda items. After lunch and Chris’ 12:30 announcements on the bing bong, our afternoons were filled with meetings and our evenings with community programming. We were always grateful for Achilles’ daily delivery of a special afternoon treat of fruit, cheese, chocolate covered strawberries or other sweet.

To maintain our voyage cadence, rather than hire a new Dean of Students, Shaun asked me to partner with Cindy Zomchek to serve as advisors to the Student Life team. The Assistant Director for Student Life is Phill DuVentre. Phill and I share a unique history in that we have sailed three voyages together, two during a pandemic. He is a very special person, so I jumped at the chance to work closer with him. Also on the team are 6 resident directors with top-notch credentials and a dedication to students beyond compare who have maintained their grace and professionalism in an extraordinary fashion. Several of them joined the voyage at the last minute after others resigned for health reasons and for the first week of the voyage, half of them were quarantined for COVID. Mid-voyage their director left. I’m incredibly lucky to meet and work with this team every day as we try to keep the focus on students through programming, support and conduct. As we moved through the Atlantic, this leg of the voyage was our chance to connect with and learn from this amazing group as we began our work together.

The morning we enter a port is always filled with anticipation. Early risers watch from Deck 9 Forward as land comes into view. As we move closer, the port city unfolds before our eyes. We watch for the pilot boat to ease its way close enough for the local pilot to step into a small door on a lower deck of our ship, and we peer over the side to see the captain and staff captain steer us to our berth. Approaching Lisbon, we were particularly excited to see familiar sites as we sailed up the Tagus River, under the 25 de Abril bridge and past the Belem Castle before coming alongside just across from the Santa Apolónia train station. We were also eager because Olivia was flying to Lisbon that night, and we planned to take the full time in port to travel.

As soon as the ship cleared and Chris had released everyone to disembark, we exited the gangway and began to climb a zigzagging sidewalk up the hill into the Alfama District. We were in search of coffee and pastries. A small patio tucked away in a residential area called to us just before the rain started falling. We sat outside under an umbrella and the proprietor brought us hot cappuccinos and warm, custardy Pasteis de Nata. Surrounded by narrow cobblestone streets and row homes with brightly colored tile facades, we soaked in the laid-back vibe of Portugal. As we wandered on, we encountered other SASers, as we tend to do, and shared lunch with green wine along the plaza before returning to the ship, packing our bags, and walking with Mom to our Air B & B in the bustling Baixa Quarter. Olivia’s flight was delayed, so she would have to meet us late for our reservations Club de Fado, a place we enjoyed with Will during our 2019 visit. Several SAS friends joined us, including Linda, who planned to spend the rest of her week participating in field programs. Olivia arrived by Uber just in time for the opening song. Fado is traditional music performed at restaurants between courses extending meals late into the night. Accompanied by the Portuguese guitar, soloists tell mournful stories of love and longing. The lights dimmed and the tempo slowed, and I felt warm with contentment and gratitude.

The next morning, we picked up the pace when Chris hailed a tuk tuk rather than a taxi. Our driver zipped around cars and bounced over cobblestones, maneuvering through backstreets to avoid a protest of the Russian invasion of Ukraine before delivering Mom, Olivia, Chris and me to the Avis Rental office. Our Spanish Seat Ateca was perfect for our next adventure.

With Olivia navigating, we headed north and made a quick stop in Peniche where there was a world class surfing competition. Avoiding the crowded beach, we stretched our legs along the rocky outcroppings at Cruz dos Remedios, shared a coffee and continued on. Ever since we watched the 100 Foot Wave documentary during the pandemic, Chris has been itching to visit and Nazare did not disappoint. Though the waves were nowhere near 100 feet, they were spectacular, and it was fun to watch them from the cliffs and overlooks we had seen on TV. Walking along the beach, we stumbled into a hidden gem, the Mercearia Na Tabua. This small wine and tapas bar was promoting a new national dish, a traditional stew that boasted seven different cuts of pork only available at this time of year. Like the tapas, the flavors in the stew were rich and herby, except for the pig’s ear that tasted just like, well, a pig’s ear. An advantage to traveling in the off-season has consistently been appreciation and personal attention from business owners who are also coming off the COVID shutdown. At Mercearia Na Tabua, we were made to feel at home with free samples, complimentary digestives, personalized travel recommendations and conversation as rich and herby as the food.

We stayed the night in the sleepy town of Aviero, known as the Venice of Portugal, early 19^h century canals that were created to support the salt and seagrass harvest flow through the picturesque village. Following an early morning walk along the canals, we had two more hours to our ultimate destination, Porto. After a visit three years ago, Chris has described this city as his favorite in Europe. Built on a hill rising from the Douro River, every photo of Porto looks like a painting with narrow cobblestone streets and passageways weaving through brightly colored tile walls. Our walking tour guide, Andre, originally from the Azores, explained that the Northern Portuguese have lived their lives through a series of crises consistently fighting back invasions, managing government corruption, and overcoming economic woes, and now a pandemic. As a result, he described the people of Porto as easy-going and quick to accept what is. While Lisbon is quite cosmopolitan, Porto retains an old-world pace and charm. Though COVID has been a hiccup, Porto is experiencing a bit of an economic revival. Empty, dilapidated buildings that covered the hillside during our previous visit were being revived, and the change in only three years was striking.

Across the river in Gaia, we were drawn to an old convent had been transformed into a hotel. With 15 stories climbing from the waterfront, it was tastefully nestled within the hillside and offered fabulous views of the Porto waterfront across the river and port wine cellars by the water in Gaia. The hotel was just steps away from the Dom Luis I, a double deck metal bridge. Designed by a student of Gustav Eiffel, the beautiful Dom Luis I resembles a sideways Eiffel tower. Though we could have been content just drinking port wine spritzers with mint and lime from the balcony while we watched the sun rise and set over this magical town, there was so much we wanted to show Mom and Liv.

We climbed the narrow, twisting stone staircase to the top of the Clérigos Tower where we soaked in panoramic views as street music filled the air from below. We visited the São Bento train station where each wall is a floor to ceiling blue tile mural depicting stories of Portugal’s history. As JK Rowling lived in Porto during the early stages of writing Harry Potter, we explored those connections climbing the ornate staircase at the Lello Bookstore that is said to be the inspiration for Hogwarts, watching for university students clad in black capes, and taking photos of the Gryffindor Fountain of Lions. On our first night, we toured the Sandeman Port Wine cellar where we learned about and tasted white, tawny, ruby and vintage ports and ate at a riverside restaurant nearby. At the start we were the only customers, but the prawn shishkabobs and steamed cod were so delicious, we earned a free dessert by recruiting unsuspecting tourists who were wandering by. On our second night, in search of more local flavor, we tried a unique port spritzer that incorporated the smoke of burned star of anise and cinnamon, then wandered into TapaBento, a small, homey restaurant next to the train station. Though it was fully booked, the host made room for us to overindulge one more time on Portuguese tapas and green wine.

We returned to Lisbon so Mom could join Linda on their final day field program hiking above the Atlantic coast. Chris, Liv and I found a charming air B & B decorated with blue tile and old-world timber just between the ship and Praça do Comércio. We spent our final day souvenir shopping, savoring the flavors of Portugal, and soaking up every last minute with Olivia. During the voyage, Chris works most closely with the staff captain of the ship. Staff Captain, Petros, would complete his eight-month shift at sea in France, so Chris invited him to a farewell dinner at a small local restaurant where we shared sardines, seabream, and stories of life as a sea captain.

I hate good-byes and sending Liv off to the airport in an Uber the next morning was no exception, even though we would see her again soon in Scotland. We walked to the ship, savoring the sights and sounds of one of our favorite places on earth. On board, our attention quickly shifted to greeting the crew and hearing stories of their first time on shore since we began our voyage. With predictions from the captain of big waves ahead, we began the routine of embarking the rest of our community, hopeful that the only rough patches would be in the sea.