According to Greek and Roman mythology, in order to pay penance, Hercules was tasked with 12 labors. To accomplish the tenth, he broke through the Atlas Mountains creating the Pillars of Hercules on either side of the Strait of Gibraltar. The pillars marked the edge of the earth and were labeled “ne plus ultra,” or “no more beyond.” Later, inspired during the age of exploration, Spain changed the motto to “plus ultra” or “going beyond,” with the Pillars of Hercules marking the place where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic and where new possibilities unfold.

Between managing COVID testing, isolation and quarantine, itinerary diversions, Schengen visa issues, and most recently the announcement by the Dean of Students that she would be leaving the voyage in Spain, we began to feel we had been tasked with our own series of labors. Testing below Spain’s 3.5% COVID requirement felt like breaking through a giant rock! We entered Barcelona with the hope of new possibilities.

Our berth was in the midst of an industrial port, a sharp contrast to the ancient walls of Croatia and Malta. But as we came alongside, a brilliant orange sunrise made even the cranes and shipping crates look beautiful. After Dean “Bing Bong” called the seas one by one to disembark and worked with the port agent to move our COVID positive voyagers to a hotel in town, we relaxed on the top deck for a moment before shuttling into town for lunch. We walked down the bustling Las Ramblas tourist area, enjoying street vendors, living statues and live music when we ran into the Cutters with Dan and Lisa Bianca who were also in search of food. We followed them to the waterside where we shared Sangria and Paella while recapping our accomplishments over the last week.

As we were on call the first part of the port stay, we slept on the ship, dispatched field programs and classes in the mornings, then made our way into town to see the sites. The double decker Hop-On Hop-Off Bus helped us get our bearings and decide where we wanted to return. I felt like we were walking through the pages of Dr. Suess during a visit to Park Guell. This beautiful 17-hectare garden designed by Antoni Gaudi reflects Gaudi’s unique architectural style that incorporates nature with curvy lines, gravity defying construction and selective colors. Gaudi’s unique style utilizing intricate and ornate designs was even more impressive at the Basilica de la Sagrada Familia. Construction on this giant basilica began in 1882 and continues to this day. Eight of the eighteen planned towers are complete. As we explored, sunlight through giant stained-glass windows reflected the colors of the rainbow and one after another, stories of Jesus’ life unfolded in carvings, statues and paintings throughout the massive structure.

One early morning we caught a train to the base of Montserrat then ascended the mountain in an aerial cable car. Situated high above the Llobregat River amidst giant rock formations stacked like building blocks is a Benedictine monastery dating back to the 9^th century. It is said the Virgin Mary performed miracles on the mountain, and one of the most famous Black Madonna statues is enshrined here. We hiked above the monastery taking in beautiful views of Catalonia in the distance finishing just in time to relax in the chapel and listen to the angelic voices of the Escolania de Montserrat (Boys Choir).

During the second half of the week, we escaped to a hotel in Barcelona where we were able to leave some responsibilities behind for a moment. We began each day with pastries and cappuccinos and throughout the day enjoyed sangria and tapas as we felt moved. We took long walks on the beach past giant sandcastles, weightlifters, volleyball players and retired folks dancing after Tai Chi class. We rode the cable car over the city and wandered narrow back streets to find a hole-in-the-wall shop where the proprietor giggled as she designed and printed a “Dean Bing Bong” t-shirt. At the recommendation of the hotel concierge, we met the Lindas at a small wine shop around the corner from our hotel for a personalized wine tasting a Catalonian who gave up a high stress IT career in the US to open a wine shop in his hometown.

We returned to the ship early on departure day knowing we had only 2 days before our next port. COVID testing revealed 6 new positive cases. Though the plan was for them to stay in Spain at the quarantine hotel, a monstrous cruise ship docked beside us that morning and filled the hotel with their passengers, so some SASers stayed in Spain and some quarantined on the ship. In a whirlwind, we finalized field programs that our incredible home office and tour operator had created in less than a week, created a Green Sheet (the traditional SAS information sheet that includes country-specific information, emergency contacts and meeting times for field programs and classes), and organized a Logistical Pre-Port presentation.

With the timing of our return from Spain marking the half-way point in our journey, the VoLT and Student Life teams held a community event marking the milestone. In a typical voyage we would be crossing the equator, and this point would be marked by a day-long celebration called Neptune Days. With no equator crossing and days lost to COVID quarantine, we instead planned an abbreviated Pillars of Hercules celebration. Led by Mike, Leah and their top-notch team of RDs, the staculty and crew quietly gathered in the Chappy dressed as Roman warriors and Greek gods. Captain Kostas called voyagers to attention over the loudspeaker. Explaining that the mid-point of our voyage coincided with passing through the Strait of Gibraltar, he called on voyagers to reflect on where we’ve been and imagine the new possibilities that lie ahead. As he concluded his remarks, the crew led the staculty with drums and cymbals in a parade throughout each deck of the ship. Students stood in their doorways cheering, clapping, and recording. We gathered on the pool deck to applaud the students as they walked by sea through our own Pillars of Hercules. Chris and I offered high fives while Patrick Wilkinson and Henry Luttikhuizen distributed honorary bracelets to mark the occasion. As the celebration concluded, students returned to their room and the VoLT moved to the Union to broadcast the Gibraltar Logistical Pre-port.

The sun peered through the clouds creating a dramatic backdrop as we approached the Rock of Gibraltar early the next morning. Located on the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula, the tiny country of Gibraltar has about a 10-mile circumference. The rock is surrounded by a quaint little town and several beautiful beaches all catering to tourists, Gibraltar’s most important source of income.  Passports were distributed, and we dispatched three field programs before disembarking and walking into town. A taxi, then cable car took us to the top of the Rock where we were greeted by macaque monkeys who swarmed like pigeons in hopes of stealing food from the bags of unaware students. We’d been warned to stay vigilant as the macaques have been known to bite, and it wasn’t long before Chris answered a call from a panicked student. A few minutes on the phone and consultation with one of the ship’s doctors revealed the skin was bruised but not broken, and the student was frightened but fine. We explored the top of the Rock where we could clearly see both Spain and Morocco and wandered through Saint Michael’s Cave, a wonderful surprise with giant limestone formations plunging into the depths below. With 400 of us descending on this tiny nation, we saw Sasers everywhere. We shared a beer with Luke, Paul, Stephen and Kelly. Then, capitalizing on Gibraltar’s history as a British territory, enjoyed fish and chips with the Cushners, Mary Ann and Jesse at a restaurant that claimed to serve “perhaps the best fish-n-chips in Gibraltar.”  After a bit of souvenir shopping, we grabbed a taxi to walk across the only runway in one of the most unique airports in the world. Because the country encompasses only 2.6 square miles, the runway crosses the only highway which needs to be shut down when a plane arrives. Our sweet taxi driver then offered to drive us around Gibraltar’s full circumference. The trip took about 20 minutes and afforded us the opportunity to see beautiful beaches with sand imported from the Sahara Desert and set foot on the southernmost point of the Iberian Peninsula. We closed our day with a visit to the Gibraltar Hospital where one of our favorite voyagers had spent the day due to an unexpected medical concern. We learned he and his wife would need to stay a few days and as such, would meet us in Portugal. Though we were grateful he was getting the care he needed, it was hard to leave them behind, and we needed to share hugs and say good-bye.

Returning to the ship, we gathered in the Chappy with the Lindas and other LLLs for a toast to mark one year since we lost Linda’s husband, Cloyd Clark. Mom shared about his career as a judge, skill as a kazoo player and storyteller, and their time working together to promote the arts in McCook, and we embraced Linda, remembering a very special man. Before Gibraltar, we had marked the end of our time in the Mediterranean with a ship-wide parade, and in the tradition of Neptune Days, continued our Pillars of Hercules celebration once back on the ship by opening the opportunity for voyagers to shave their heads. Having some experience with clippers, Luke, Amanda, and I were selected to do the cutting on the stage of the Anderson Union with the event broadcast into cabins. The community excitement was contagious. Everyone was having fun and for an evening, it almost felt like something one could call normal.

Early the next morning, we ventured into the beyond. Leaving the Mediterranean, we sailed past the Pillars of Hercules and through the Strait of Gibraltar into the Atlantic. With excitement and renewed energy, we looked forward to the new possibilities ahead in the second half of our voyage.

As the communication hub on the ship, Chris is never truly off-duty. Whether sightseeing, enjoying a meal, or participating in a field program, he stays in close touch through email and SeaChat, managing issues big and small. On our last day in any port, we usually board early to be sure all is in order prior to departure. In Malta, we were pleased to learn there were relatively few behavioral problems and no serious safety issues. Additionally, all who had been in isolation due to COVID tested negative and were released. As voyagers made their way back to the ship, we celebrated in all caps on our on-ship messaging app called SeaChat, “NO COVID ON BOARD AT THIS TIME!”

Though we were feeling good about our COVID numbers, some other stressors were beginning to brew. In planning for our March visit to France, we learned that their COVID rules had recently changed, and our voyagers would be required to have a booster to enter any venues in the country. Additionally, two students had overlooked the limits on their Schengen visa allowance. Despite efforts by our leadership, all possible solutions had been exhausted and it was determined they would need to leave the voyage. Captain Kostas arranged to stay at our berth an extra day to allow time for those who needed boosters to get them and for the two students to disembark. The work done on behalf of these students also uncovered a visa problem for the greater shipboard community. Because previous changes in itinerary replaced time in Ireland and Morocco, two non-Schengen countries, with more time in the Schengen zone, a majority of us would also exceed our visa allowances before completing the voyage.

As everyone returned to the ship, we shuttled them through post-port COVID testing while surveying each to determine who needed a booster. Testing resulted in seven new positive cases and five close contacts. The med team activated the isolation and quarantine protocols. The VoLT quickly planned for an on-ship in-port academic day, organized shuttles for voyagers needing boosters, and arranged for disembarkation of the students with visa issues then gathered in Captain’s quarters for a late-night call with the home office to strategize.

The next day, tension began to build. Dozens of students were lined up at the med clinic on Deck 3, some legitimately experiencing symptoms and others fibbing in order to get tested. The thought was that if they were going to test positive, they wanted to be able to complete quarantine on the ship before reaching Spain. Working overtime, the exhausted med team persisted. Testing revealed seven more COVID positives and five more close contacts.  At the same time, we were shuttling voyagers into town for COVID boosters and preparing the students with visa issues to disembark. Not fully understanding the situation, the two students’ friends gathered on Deck 9 to protest. They loudly demanded that the students be allowed to sail. The RDs and counselors did their best to offer support and explain the issue was beyond our control while the VoLT finalized an action plan which included holding a community meeting that night to address visa concerns, announce an itinerary change replacing Denmark with Scotland to resolve the Schengen issue, and unfold an additional community-wide testing plan for the following day. Emotions were high. Many voyagers were feeling fear, anger, and confusion, but with a goal of transparency, Shaun led the meeting with patience and grace. I left feeling hopeful that the event would build trust and confidence.

We set sail on February 13. Taking advantage of a calm and sunny morning at sea, I had my first opportunity to play volleyball on the sports court with Elsa Berkner. As it always does, a little pepper and good conversation made all the problems fade away, if only for an hour.

With the ease of transmission of Omicron, we expected an increase in COVID cases after our full community testing that day. We were shocked, however, by a huge spike that included 32 positive cases and 24 close contacts. By the 14^th we were up to 35 and 26 including four staculty. Spain would not allow us to come if the rate of positive cases on board exceeded 3.5 percent and these numbers put us over the threshold. The VoLT gathered in Captain’s quarters and Shaun led us through our options, meticulously breaking down each step, each consideration, each potential impact. Taking a break for dinner, Chris and I rushed down to the Four Seasons. We had scheduled specialty dining to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Late and still clad in our sweats and t-shirts, we explained our situation. With his kind eyes and sweet giggle, Ronnie assured us they could expedite our meal. For 45 wonderful minutes we escaped, pampered by Bravo and Joyce who served us champagne with 6 courses that included salad in the shape of a heart and a chocolate valentine dessert.

After a final Valentine toast, we returned to the Captain’s meeting room for a call with the home office to solidify a decision to move into COVID mitigation strategies. We would implement a modified quarantine of all passengers and delay our arrival to Spain in the hope our numbers would go down. Classes would be moved to remote and asynchronous delivery and all activities would be canceled. The Chappy, Lido Terrace, Keno and other indoor spaces would be closed. Masks would be required not only inside but out, and no guests would be allowed in cabins. Voyagers would be called to meals by their assigned sea groups, and they would have 40 minutes to eat or walk outside on the deck. Buffets would be closed with all food being served to socially distanced tables. Chris composed the message and took his place at the microphone to make the announcement.

By the next morning, we reached what would be our COVID peak with 44 positive cases and 31 close contacts. While staculty were also following the mitigation strategies, some of us needed to move about to keep things running. Signs on the bookstore and salon read, “Closed until further notice,” and the number of small tables in front of the doors of isolation and quarantine cabins multiplied. The ship felt empty and eerie. Memories of the days before the shut down of our 2020 voyage flashed through my mind making my stomach churn. We continued to meet to make and adjust plans. Cindy and the student life team did individual outreach to those in isolation and quarantine. Chris and Heather worked with faculty to shift to remote delivery of coursework and organize streaming of Global Studies into cabins. We organized deck time, first for the close contacts, then in shifts for the entire shipboard community. We arranged activities to be streamed to cabins from the Anderson Union including a night of Bingo with the resident directors (RDs), a presentation on the Schengen visa by Liz, evening yoga led by Kelly Grogan and bedtime stories read by Luke Gruenhagen. One day, Captain Kostas moved the ship into a bay just outside Palma de Mallorca in an attempt to secure better cell service for calls home. To help staculty keep their sanity, Chris quietly arranged for off sale in the Chappy during dinnertime.

Voyagers communicated through SeaChat. While the opportunity for connection was nice, like all social media, it began to feed rumors and magnify frustrations. While one of the RDs, Mike Mann, made a valiant effort, it was impossible to keep up with and correct the onslaught of misinformation. In an attempt to head some of this off, Shaun held a Q & A session that was broadcast to the cabins and for an hour and a half, patiently responded to questions submitted on-line.

As students were clearly getting bored, one running conversation on SeaChat was about Chris and his announcements. Voyagers began to refer to the PA system that rings two bells before an announcement as the “Bing Bong.” Some loved it. Others hated it, and soon Chris was dubbed, Dean Bing Bong.

Because of the plan to delay arrival, the field team went to work to reschedule all field programs and classes, and just to keep things interesting our berth was changed requiring a last-minute addition of buses to all trips. One evening while on a call with Sara and Koty from the home office, we were already a little slap happy when Chris activated the Bing Bong to announce that we had, in fact, run out of chicken. Hope of any further productive conversation was lost as we laughed until we cried knowing we could get through anything, even a chicken shortage!

The four days of quarantine passed quickly, and at the same time felt like forever. I kept in touch with Mom at meals and out our adjacent French balconies, reminiscent of our time at the Medea Resort in Italy. On February 18, Shaun summoned Chris to his office for a late-night call with the home office. Even though it was 10 p.m., Chris was asked to make a community announcement over the PA notifying voyagers that mitigation strategies would be relaxed after testing on the 19th and that we would be adding Gibraltar to our itinerary either after or instead of Spain, depending on testing results. Overall, voyagers seemed to appreciate what they felt was good news more than they hated being awakened by a late-night Bing Bong.

Nervous energy filled the air the next morning as we set up stations, rallied volunteers and called sea groups for testing. Following a very efficient process, voyagers returned to their rooms to watch Global Studies and await results. If our positive cases were over the threshold, we would not stop in Spain. If we were below the threshold, the captain would send our numbers to the port agent who would determine if we were allowed in.  The ultimate outcome depended not only upon the number of new positive cases on this day, but also on the number of previously positive who would test negative. Initial calculations put us at 18 positive cases. While under the threshold, the number was too high to guarantee our acceptance. Captain Kostas submitted the report and we continued to wait.

The VoLT prepared for either outcome and discussed what should happen next on the ship. With testing complete, could we end or alter mitigation strategies? Again, Shaun led us through consideration of the impact of each possibility. Ultimately, we decided to allow movement about the ship, always maintaining masking and social distancing. Voyagers began to emerge from their cabins at lunchtime and while there was a feeling of some normalcy, it was accompanied by worried tension as we waited. Not knowing if we were actually going, but needing to be prepared if we did, we moved forward with plans for a community meeting at 20:00 to be delivered remotely. This would be our Logistical Pre-Port if approved for Spain, or an opportunity to share next steps and answer questions if not. Chris prepared two different announcements and we went to the Chappy to wait with our fellow staculty. Conxita, who was born in Barcelona, and Henry, who has family in Spain, cautiously shared travel suggestions while Chris monitored his email. At 17:15 Chris nudged me with his eyes and we quietly went to his office to retrieve his announcement notes.

At the reception desk, Lito and Nena watched intently as Chris pressed the button and rang the Bing Bong. “Good evening Voyagers. May I have your attention please? I’m a bottom-line type of person so let’s get to it. Today our testing revealed 6 new positive cases which brings us to a total of 18 COVID-19 positive passengers and one Influenza case aboard the MV World Odyssey. As a result, Spanish authorities have cleared us for arrival and disembarkation of all passengers!” As he read, cheers erupted throughout the ship. Lito raised his arms and danced, and yet again, tears of joy spilled down my face. Voyagers shouted to Chris from balconies above. “We love you!” and “Thank you!” and “We’re going to Barcelona!”

We gathered our things and moved to the Anderson Union for Logistical Pre-Port. During the field portion, I took a minute to thank the community. Reflecting on my 2020 Semester at Sea experience, I shared my belief that those voyagers would have given anything to have a chance to keep sailing. Quarantining for four days was hard, but we did what we needed to do to save our voyage. Bing Bong, we are going to Spain!

Despite the irresponsibility of some students, we shockingly only had one positive COVID case which ensured we would be allowed to disembark in Valletta. With only 3 days at sea ahead, we quickly left Croatia behind and immersed ourselves in preparations for Malta. Chris’ co-dean, Bob Kling, disembarked in Dubrovnik. Because he stepped into the dean role at the last minute, he had obligations in Colorado to manage before returning to the voyage in March. With a strong support team in Heather Matthews and Cindy Zomchek, and Bob’s involvement from a distance, Chris would manage the on-ship Academic Dean role in addition to his responsibilities as Assistant Executive Dean. The field team finalized details for our in-port excursions and classes, held a preparation meeting for the trip leaders, organized our pre-port presentation and completed the green sheet. Chris attended the daily Captain’s meeting and I joined for the pre-port officers’ meeting. We shared Maltese appetizers in the Chappy and set aside an evening for specialty dining with the Lindas and friend Harlee. While daily meals are served buffet style in the Berlin or Lido restaurants, voyagers can reserve specialty dining in the Four Seasons. Crew who typically wait on us in the dining areas take turns offering 5-star service during these six course meals. Not only is the food and service delicious, but it’s also fun to see the students dining together dressed to the nines and enjoying royal treatment.

It was early morning when wove our way around peninsulas with ancient forts into Grand Harbor to come alongside in Valletta. Maltese health officials boarded the ship, and we called voyagers to present a vaccination QR code that they had been instructed to obtain while in Croatia. The process went smoothly for most, but for a handful who had not downloaded their codes, panic set in that they may not get to disembark in Malta. The leadership team stationed volunteers in the Lido restaurant to help about 50 voyagers use spotty internet to log-in and complete the extensive application. With moments to spare, the final student received confirmation and rushed to the deck to be approved.

At 17 miles long and 9 miles wide, Malta is the tenth smallest country in the world. Founded in the 26^th century, the capital city of Valletta, is a Unesco World Heritage City. Narrow streets climbing from the sea to the town center at the top of the hill are lined with simple limestone buildings supporting brightly colored Maltese balconies, ornate churches and cathedrals, and elaborate statues of Catholic saints. When feeling ambitious, we climbed the many stairs to the top but could also take a glass elevator to the Upper Barrakka Gardens above the ship. Interspersed among local markets and souvenir shops were American and European clothing and restaurant chains. Old Town buzzed as preparations were being made for the Feast of St. Paul’s Shipwreck, a national Maltese holiday celebrating the patron saint of Malta who healed the sick and brought Christianity to the island. Though the traditional celebration with feasting in the streets and a processional carrying a giant statue of Saint Paul through the crowds would be replaced with a ticketed sit-down affair due to COVID, everyone was excited for the event.

We walked miles exploring side streets, tasting pastizzis stuffed with mushy peas or ricotta cheese, and sampling Cisk beers. The splendor of St. John’s Cathedral was awe-inspiring with vaulted ceilings intricately embellished in gold, exquisite marble floors and stone carvings. Within the cathedral we were moved by Caravaggio’s The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist. I was captivated by this magnificent painting that was simultaneously beautiful and disturbing. One night while walking, we ran into Lew and Mary Ann Cutter on a mission to find a good restaurant serving the Maltese national dish, rabbit stew. Intrigued, we joined them, navigating off the beaten path down narrow stone stairs to Nenu the Artisan Baker. It was fun to eat at a less touristy venue and the food was delicious, even the rabbit.

Our field program took us on a 40-minute ferry ride to explore the island of Gozo. Smaller and more rural, Gozo is said to be the mythical home of Calypso in Homer’s Odyssey. Passing through almond trees beginning to bloom, we explored the prehistoric Ġgantija Temples. With structures and artifacts dating back 5500 years, it’s no surprise that it is another UNESCO World Heritage site. After lunch at a local restaurant, we toured the Citadel in the capital city of Victoria and while wandering the surrounding area succumbed to a sweet woman selling handmade sweaters for charity.

Nearly every Maltin we encountered encouraged us to go to Mdina, so one morning we bused with the Linda’s to the walled city north of Valletta. Tightly packed knee to knee in a carriage drawn by a horse named Dennis, the four of us toured the village to the clip clop of hooves against stone streets. We watched a wedding party emerge from a lavish ceremony at St. Paul’s Cathedral, and we shared a cold beverage with Henry Luttikhuizen and Sandra Sgoutas-Emch, SAS faculty who we found souvenir shopping. On a whim, Chris hailed a taxi and asked him to “take us somewhere.” The kind driver delivered us to Dingli Cliffs, the highest point on the island where we took in beautiful views of the Mediterranean before returning to Valletta.

Needing a quiet get away, Chris and I made our way to Marsaxlokk on our final day in Malta. The harbor in this small fishing village was filled with brightly colored boats and the nearby boardwalk lined with souvenir stands and seafood cafes. We walked on the beach, being careful to avoid dozens of baby jellyfish rolling with the tide before visiting St. Peter’s Pool. Here, a series of small inlets surrounded by limestone created deep pools of crystal-clear water reflecting varying shades of blue. The view was stunning and rejuvenating, a high point in an already wonderful outing. We ended our escape at a quiet wine bar on a tiny side street in Valletta sharing a toast of gratitude that we get to live this life. Walking back to the ship, we heard band music playing in the distance. A security guard let us sneak past the barriers just in time to see the giant statue of St. Paul being carried through the crowd. As Malta had given us so much over the last days, we decided this was a sign of a little extra protection from its shipwrecked patron saint as we awaited the safe return of our voyagers to the ship.

Not only was Cyprus an extraordinary port of call, but our community also managed to return to the ship with few positive COVID cases. With two successful ports behind us, the idea that we might complete this voyage started to feel like a real possibility. Per our protocol, positive cases were isolated and close contacts quarantined on board. Staculty and crew mobilized to provide support for them personally and academically, learning new things every step of the way. With five days at sea till the next port, we began to prepare for Croatia. Sailing through the crisp, blue Aegean Sea, we paused near the island of Crete then meandered through the Straits of Corfu where snowcapped mountains of Albania on one side and stunning beaches of Corfu on the other ushered us into the Ionian and Adriatic Seas.

As we moved toward warmer weather, we felt some sense of normalcy as more time outdoors could be enjoyed, although damage from months of dry dock during the pandemic kept Decks 8 and 9 aft closed for repairs. Evenings were filled with activities and events, and students organized an open mic night that left me in awe. On stage, they sang and danced, and we all cheered their talents.

The business of the VoLT continued and two nights before arriving in Croatia we gathered in the Captain’s quarters for a call with the home office. While many countries were beginning to relax COVID requirements, neither Morocco nor Ireland were signaling any intention to open to cruise ships. As such, the decision had been made to eliminate those ports of call, extend our time in Spain and Portugal, and add Denmark to the itinerary. We held a community meeting to share the news. Passengers were, of course, disappointed. Some were angry, others were sure they knew a better solution, and a few were convinced it was a plot by the establishment to steal their money. But most knew when they signed up for this voyage that nothing was certain. They accepted that itinerary changes were expected in these days of COVID.

We moved forward with our pre-port routines finalizing arrival details, creating the green sheet, and planning the Logistical Pre-Port Presentation. Chris invited some students to emcee the Logistical Pre-Port. They cracked jokes and hammed it up, creating a special night. We came alongside a night early as the captain anticipated high winds. From our berth, we could see layers of homes and small shops constructed of stone steeply stacked on the hill behind the terminal revealing a hint of the history we would encounter during our visit. Disembarkation the next morning was efficient and quick. Kaley, Luke and I met for coffee with our tour operators who were so excited for our visit, the first cruise ship in Dubrovnik in 2022.

Both Chris and I were on-call for Day 1 which required staying near the ship, so we joined the Lindas and Dr. Mark at a hotel just across from the port gate for a lunch of octopus legs, black risotto and other traditional Croatian dishes before hunkering down to get some work done. Just after dark, we headed into the old town. By night, the city walls were striking and narrow stone streets inviting. As we were in the off-season for an area that depends on tourists, it was quiet except for SASers milling about. Enticed by a proprietor offering delicious sea bass and a cozy patio on a small side street, we began to review the menu when Chris’ on-call phone rang. A student was in distress and Chris needed to attend to the issue. The Lindas and I moved ahead with our meal, receiving updates from students seated next to us who were involved in a texting group about the problem. Too much alcohol combined with immaturity and poor judgement had led to a stressful situation that derailed the evening for many, but eventually and due to the commitment and diligence of the SAS team, all was well. Chris accompanied the student and her friends back to the ship. Because he had missed dinner, Chris and I escaped briefly to a cute little pizza place just outside the port for a quick respite before spending most of the night helping the residence life staff as they managed other student issues.

Despite the rough start, our time in Croatia surpassed all expectations. Our visit coincided with the local Festivity of St. Blaise, so the streets that were so quiet awakened with festivities. Bolstered with coffee and Boreks – mouthwatering, flaky pastries filled with cheese – we spent the day exploring the city walls. Climbing high above Dubrovnik, the vastness of the structure was awe inspiring. Through gaps between clay tile rooftops, we spied hidden gardens and clotheslines, playgrounds and basketball courts, evidence of modern life lived within ancient dwellings. Views from towers and overlooks once meant to protect the community from invasions inspired stops to gaze and take photos. As we encountered other groups of SASers, we shared stories and excitement about our visit. We found a small bar secluded among the rocks at the base of one wall and stopped to dip our feet in the sea and share an early cocktail. Later that day we met friends, Heather, Paul, Heidi and John at a cute little wine bar in the center of old town. The owner explained that he makes the wine himself and sells it locally. He also happened to be the pilot who brought our ship alongside two days earlier.

The next morning, we hopped on a bus with 15 fellow voyagers for a field program. The half hour drive followed the Dalmatian Coast north to the small villages of Ston and Mali Ston on the Pelješac Peninsula. Here we hiked more medieval walls built in 1333 and visited the oldest salt pans in Europe learning about Mediterranean Sea salt extraction. A boat ride across Mali Ston Bay afforded us the opportunity to taste the most delicious, fresh oysters from a farm that has been in the same family for many generations then share a meal at a restaurant run by the same family.

We set out early the next morning to hike the Mt. Srd trail to Fort Imperial. A rocky trail with sharp switchbacks that began in the shelter of pine trees then gave way to wide open views of Dubrovnik and the Adriatic on one side and Bosnia and Montenegro on the other. Typical of Croatia’s Catholic tradition, stations of the cross marked the way. On our return to the ship, we took a walking detour along the coast to a small beach where we listened to the waves and Face Timed with Olivia in England. It was such a peaceful, sunny spot, the time to leave came too soon. We dried our feet and collected some sea rocks, appreciating a small diversion together before embracing the challenges that lay ahead.

I always get a little teary on our last day in a country. There’s never enough time to do all we want, and our visits are just long and rich enough to get attached. I was captivated by Greece’s history and beauty and charmed by its people. I could have stayed longer but found a familiar comfort in returning home to the ship to prepare for departure. At the gangway, Vijay and his security team welcomed us back and attentive crew members asked about our time ashore.

As other voyagers hurried to return by “on-ship” time, we shared stories of Greek escapades and gradually moved our attention to the next leg of the journey. Chris dove quickly into his new adventure in the role of Assistant Executive Dean (AED). The person previously holding this position didn’t return to the voyage after our time in Greece. Chris was asked, with the help of some fabulous support staff, to serve as our AED while continuing to share the job of Co-Academic Dean. The AED manages logistics for every aspect of the voyage and acts as the primary liaison between the ship’s officers and the shipboard community. In addition to attending the captain’s meeting every morning, he serves as “The Voice,” making ship wide announcements over the microphone at 12:30 and 18:30 daily. The AED role is huge, and Chris is a natural. He is organized, efficient, compassionate, and funny, and his presence in this position has transformed the energy of the voyage.

As Chris absorbed more and more responsibility, we began to develop a new rhythm around our busy work schedules. Walks on deck and early morning coffee offered quiet time to prepare for the day, as well as a chance to visit with crew members who, due to COVID restrictions, have yet to leave the ship since their arrival in December. Work, which absorbed most of the days, was interrupted by breaks to watch the sun rise and set and see the reflection of the full moon against the sea. We gathered on Deck 9 as we sailed past Santorini and the Mykonos Islands with their bright white buildings tucked into cliffs above beautiful beaches below. Most evenings we met the Lindas in the Chappy and connected with other staculty and LLLs before dinner and nighttime activities. We celebrated Phill DuVentre’s birthday eating cake and dancing on the pool deck.

We moved through wind, thunderstorms, and choppy waters, capturing photos of rainbows in the waves and over the ship before anchoring just outside Limassol, Cyprus. A prerequisite to our visit was that a Cypriot medical team would board the ship before we came alongside to perform PCR tests on all passengers. Our leadership team tackled logistical details while staculty and students volunteered time to help, and we moved over 475 voyagers through testing with confidence and efficiency. That evening, we enjoyed traditional Cypriot appetizers in the Chappy, and Chris orchestrated his first Logistical Preport. Filled with humor and positivity, the evening was upbeat and voyager spirits were high. With test results rolling in after 10 p.m., the wheels began turning to isolate those with positive results and quarantine their close contacts, only to find out the next morning that several were actually false positives and about half of those who had been confined were released. With a new mantra of “stay positive and test negative!” we enthusiastically anticipated the second port on our journey.

In the early morning, the pilot boarded the ship, and we made our way into port. Marveling at the beauty of Limassol, voyagers took selfies while Professor Birgit Trauer danced with joy across the deck. Luke, Kaley and I disembarked early to find a taxi waiting to take us to old town to meet with our tour operators. Antonella is the 5^th generation to work in her family business. Together with her colleague, Evros, we reviewed itineraries for our classes and programs over delicious Cypriot pastries filled with olives and cheese.

With no plans for our first day, Chris and I were just beginning to explore when Kaley and Luke messaged that they had room in their van if we wanted to go wine tasting. The next thing we knew, we were on a beautiful drive toward the Troodos mountains, on winding roads through United Kingdom territory. The views from the Oenou Yi winery perched on a mountainside overlooking the town of Omodos were spectacular. The wines were also extraordinary. Together we laughed, learned about local grapes, and remembered the magic of traveling in port with friends.

We caught the bus to Paphos on day two where we walked miles and miles along the coast, explored the ancient ruins at the Tombs of Kings and stopped at a luxury resort for a drink and a quiet moment together overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Walking back, it began to rain, and we took respite in a small coffee shop where we ran into Patrick Wilkinson and Birgit. The two had rented a car, and they offered us a ride back to the ship. Patrick’s 6’ 5” frame only fit in the small Kia rental because Birgit is tiny and required very little room in the seat behind him. I felt oddly safe even though he was driving on the left side of the road for the first time in the dark and pouring rain. Chris navigated well until just into Limassol, we missed our exit. Taking the next turn, we found ourselves in a maze of very narrow one-way streets driving in circles past the same landmarks over and over again. We laughed and laughed until finally Birgit found a tiny sign pointing our escape through a small back alley to downtown.

Our field program in this port took us hiking on the Akamas Peninsula. The Lindas joined us on a challenging five-mile trail winding through olive, carob, fig and of course, cyprus trees. Meadows were filled with lilies not yet blooming, and cyclamens splashed lavender along the trail. We took breaks at the Baths of Aphrodite and under a 500-year-old oak tree. Though windy, the 370-meter summit at Moutti tis Sotiras and the hike down provided breathtaking views of the tip of the peninsula reaching out to the sea. We finished the day by a warm fire eating a family style meal of traditional Cypriot food at Christos Café and Tavern.

During our final day in Cyprus, Chris and I taxied to the ancient ruins in Kourion, a settlement that dates back to 5500 BC where we saw intricate mosaics in the House of Achilles, booming pillars outlining an ancient basilica, and a well-preserved theatre. Our taxi driver was proud to share how a farmer who was plowing his field had stumbled across the ruins.

We relished our last moments in Cyprus over coffee and pastries, and I felt that familiar sadness in my heart. In a taxi back to the port, Chris cajoled with our driver as the MV World Odyssey came into view. At the gangway, Vijay greeted us and on our way to our cabin, Ria and Achilles asked about our time in Cyprus. “The Voice” then took his place at the mic to welcome voyagers back, reminding them to turn in their passports and get their COVID tests. It was good to be home.

South of Naples, we sailed past the Stromboli Volcano and the picturesque village of Ginostra situated on the slopes just below its fiery mouth, then through the Strait of Messina between Sicily and Italy. Students went to class learning about Greek politics, art, music and history while getting acquainted, building community, and organizing clubs and activities. Several resident directors who had been quarantined on the ship since Italy were released, relieving a great deal of stress for the Residence Life Team. Our voyage leadership team (VoLT) continued to work through ongoing COVID challenges, and the Field Team prepared our excursions for Greece. We produced our first Green Sheet, a document distributed to all voyagers with safety and contact information, as well as details about their field programs and classes. We met with staculty to prepare them to lead groups in Greece and coordinated last minute details with the tour operator through a phone call in the Executive Dean’s office.

We came alongside in Piraeus as staculty were enjoying traditional Greek appetizers in the Chappy served by the best bartenders ever, Ingrid and Jun. Voyagers cheered, took selfies and reveled in arriving at our first port. Flooded with memories of our final approach to South Africa in March 2020, I was buoyed by a sense that we might actually complete this voyage.  The entire SAS community came together for our first Logistical Preport, a gathering held the night before each port to provide country-specific information about safe and appropriate travel. Unfortunately, a time that should have been fun and exciting as the first voyage after a 2-year hiatus was dampened a bit by some challenging stress management issues.

We awoke the next morning to a message from our Executive Dean, Shaun, inviting the VoLT to an early morning meeting to prepare for disembarkation. When we walked into the meeting room, we were surprised to see Captain Kostas waiting for us. The Greek government had just informed him that we would be required to test every passenger every day they wished to leave the ship. Since Italy, we had tested the full community twice, each time learning ways to refine the system, but it is a big job and a huge lift for our small medical team. During our half-hour meeting, we brainstormed and discussed and honed a plan for our 4 days in Greece. Because we had tested for arrival, testing would be on days 2, 3, and 4. We would recruit volunteers, set up an assembly type line in the Lido restaurant, prioritize those with field classes, programs, and flights, and use “sea chat” and “sea mail,” as well as signs on the gangway, to inform everyone. We devised systems to safely and discreetly inform and isolate those with positive results and their close contacts. We broke our huddle and went to work preparing.

The first voyagers crossed gangway about 10 a.m. and just after noon, we met up with Lew and Mary Ann Cutter, friends we had met on our 2017 voyage and set forth on a mission to find Greek coffee. We ventured up the steep, cobblestone streets of Piraeus to a small shopping area where we found not only coffee, but pastries, Oozo and Dr. Mark. Further meandering took us to a market, pharmacy, candy shop and church. We were struck by the beauty of the sidewalks lined with orange trees, the ocean view from the hilltops, and the number of cats crossing streets, lying on hoods of cars, or wandering in and out of shops and cafes. Just as I was headed back for our meeting with the tour operator, we ran into Luke. He and I returned to the terminal together while and the Cutters stayed in town for lunch.

It was fun to finally meet our tour operators with Excursions Greece in person after working with them through email and Zoom for many months. A family-owned business, they were extraordinary partners invested in our mutual success. Over pastries and chocolate, we reviewed our itineraries and clarified questions.

Captain Kostas, who is Greek, recommended a small, local restaurant where we met up with Scott and Bob for dinner and a discussion that would further turn Chris’ retirement on its head. Another shift in his work responsibilities that, if accepted, would be announced enroute to Cyprus. We shared a variety of delicious appetizers, cherished time with friends and tried to avoid eye contact with several cats who seemed to believe if they stared hard enough, they could will a morsel of food off our forks. Greece was the end of Scott’s time on the voyage. He was excited to be meeting up with son, Tate, in Germany and returning to the home office in Fort Collins.

Our time in Greece was extraordinary. We visited the Acropolis on a cold, windy day, sharing a tour with the Crisler family who were kind enough to donate handwarmers to get me through. We reheated at a rooftop café overlooking the Parthenon and shared fresh tomatoes, olives and feta cheese with Ken and Hyla Cushner. Together with the Lindas, we joined a field program to Ancient Corinth. A site that was occupied from before 3000 BC, we walked where the Apostle Paul addressed the Corinthians and took in breathtaking views of snowcapped mountains through the ruins. The program also included a visit to the Corinth Canal followed by a tour of a family run olive farm where we learned their process for making olive oil and tasted their unique olive oil varieties.

On January 14, we received word from Sara that the Italian government, perhaps with some intervention from the American Consulate, had allowed Will and the remaining SAS student in isolation at the Medea Resort to take an antigen test rather than PCR. Nervously awaiting the results, we walked along the shore of the Aegean Sea in search of a café with good coffee and wifi. My heart lept into my throat when Chris’ phone rang. Though reception was poor, and we could barely hear, the word NEGATIVE was loud and clear. Tears of joy welled and spilled down my cheeks. At the nearest café, we tapped into wifi, called Will back to ascertain details about next steps and toasted to freedom with a bottle of Oozo! Will would spend the night at the hotel where Sara was staying. Together, they would travel on the following day by train to Rome where he would stay with his friend Devin until he could get a flight home.

The celebration continued when we took the Lindas and friend, Harley, back to the restaurant recommended by Captain Kostas. We had more appetizers to try and were happy to support a local business with such kind proprietors. The sun set as we drank more toasts to Will and the dedicated ISE staff who tirelessly support all of us. Walking back in the dark, the lights on MV World Odyssey in the harbor below guided us home as we felt lighter, hopeful and full of gratitude. Ya Mas!

Just before Christmas, the academic dean who had been preparing for the Spring 2022 voyage for more than a year, resigned. Over steaks at Rare Italian in Fort Collins, our friend Sara began to devise a plan that included Chris and Bob Kling sharing the position as “co-deans.” Chris and Bob worked together on our 2017 voyage and are an excellent team. Suddenly Chris’ retirement plan of reading books and lounging on the pool deck morphed into an exciting opportunity to impact this pioneering voyage. We both had hoped to have time during the Homecoming voyage to prepare for our respective roles before Spring 2022 embarkation. Instead, we found ourselves drinking from a firehose, squeezing a weeks’ worth of work into a day. We connected with our teams, learned ship systems, and readied our voyager orientations.

The academic dean position is much like it would be at any university supporting faculty and students. During orientation, Chris and Bob helped faculty get set-up on Moodle, review their syllabi and course assignments, understand COVID related policies and prepare to teach classes on a ship. At the same time, I caught up with Kaley and Luke in the field office. I have a rock star team and was so grateful for all they did to prepare in my absence. Together we oriented the shipboard community to field programs – optional excursions all voyagers can purchase when in port, and field classes – required excursions tied to coursework. Excitement began to build for the adventure ahead.

We stayed in daily touch with Will. Sara visited him every morning bringing the latest news, a listening ear, and care packages and giving us a sense of peace knowing he was not alone. He continued to test negative on antigen tests only to be denied freedom due to positive PCR tests. After each government test, we waited anxiously from afar for results, feeling helpless and defeated each time he texted, “positive.” And yet Will remained mentally tough. Resigned to 21 days in captivity, he served as a source of reason and resilience for the others who were quarantined and for his parents. We were relieved when Jonah, Lianne, and Liv returned safely home to our very happy pups and began the process of reintegrating.

Just after dinner on January 6, with everyone embarked except 41 students, faculty and staff who had tested positive for COVID, we began to feel the rumble of engines. On deck, we connected with Elsa Berkner, one of Olivia’s best friends who is sailing on this voyage, as well as several friends from our 2017 and 2020 voyages. The crew dropped the ropes and the ship eased away from the dock, slowly leaving Naples and Will behind us.

Classes started on the on the 7^th and we quickly settled into a routine. Morning sunrises on Deck 9 set the mood for breakfast in the Lido Restaurant where we are pampered by a crew who treat us like royalty. Some, like Perry, Bravo, Daril, Jeffrey and Ronnie have been with SAS for a long time and remember us from previous years. After a quick check into our offices, Chris’ with a beautiful ocean view on Deck 7, mine a small dressing room behind reception on Deck 5, we find Mom and Linda in Global Studies, a daily course required for all voyagers. The day continues with a Voyage Leadership Team (VoLT) meeting, lunch, and more work. It winds down with a visit to the Chappy, the faculty-staff lounge where we catch up with fellow staculty. After dinner, we gather on Deck 9 to watch the sunset and retire to our cabin for the best night’s sleep one could ever imagine.

COVID intrudes on the normalcy of the routine. Mask wearing has become second nature, as it is strictly enforced on the ship, along with sanitizing and social distancing. Red Xs mark the chairs where we can’t sit, and we spend hours upon hours planning for and implementing regular testing.

In many ways, I feel like we are home. This ship and these people fill a place in my heart and soul. It’s inspiring to be a part of a community, from the captain and his crew to the staculty and students to our colleagues in the home office, who are so committed to the success of this voyage during such uncertain times. We sail on, savoring all that is good, tackling the challenges as they come, and praying for Will’s release.

During isolation and quarantine, the value of connectivity is immeasurable. From the beginning, we were in consistent communication with Semester at Sea colleagues who were listening, planning, mobilizing and supporting. Periodically, we received offers for help from friends who had connections in Naples. As we anxiously awaited results from our seventh day PCR tests, hope and frustration vacillated with promises from Fabio that were pledged and reneged. We were readying ourselves for bed, resigned to another day with no information, when I received a What’s App call from a friend of a friend. Anative of Naples, Lu offered to call Fabio. We visited a bit before I shared his number and slipped out to the patio to say good night to the team. The boys bantered about their next electronic chess move, and Liv dropped the bedsheet rope to gather some dark chocolate. When I stepped back into our room, wifi reconnected with a missed call and message from Lu. “I spoke with Fabio. He was super helpful and explained in detail everything. You’ll get your negative results now. You are free tomorrow.” In disbelief, as I slowly reread her words, Chris’ phone began buzzing and one by one, our test results rolled in.

Sweet. Skepticism turned to relief and the kids made their way downstairs for a toast to freedom and to plan next steps. Bitter. Having tested positive, Will was not free. From his socially distanced patio, I watched his determination and strength as he celebrated with his siblings, and my stomach churned.

From Fabio, Lu learned that Will would be PCR tested every seven days and released with a negative result or in 21 days, whichever came first. Unsure that we could abandon him, Chris and I discussed which of us might stay in Italy. Jonah, Lianne, Liv and Tyler booked flights home, and we packed. As the sun rose the next morning, the Lindas and the kids reveled in walks on the beach while Chris and I taxied into Paestum for supplies to support Will. Outside of captivity, shopping was fun. People were kind and helpful. We filled our cart with snacks and vitamins, band-aids and wine, knowing none of it could make leaving our son palatable. 

We were reassured when we learned our dear friend, Sara, who works for Semester at Sea would be coming to the Medea Beach Resort to support a new group of students who were heading to quarantine. There could not be a more trusted or tenacious advocate, and with Will’s reassurance and encouragement, we joined the rest of Team Seng in two taxi’s back to Naples. Bittersweet. 

Determined to never again be quarantined by the Italian government, we made a quick stop at a local pharmacy for COVID tests. With negative documentation and cappuccinos to go, the two-hour drive by daylight was beautiful. We passedresort towns tucked away in sandy coves and villages known for producing Bufala Mozzarella. Once in Naples, we settled the kids into a hotel near the port, met Sara for lunch, and once again made our way to the ship. 

The MV World Odyssey feels like home, and it was a welcomed sight! CEO and friend, Scott Marshall, met us at the port gates and snapped a few photos before we said good-bye to the kids.Recent memories flooded my mind as we repeated the process of checking our luggage and passports, climbing stairs, listing close contacts, swabbing throats and noses, then waiting. Ship’s crew who have become friends over the years, waited anxiously with us. With one more lump in the throat moment after a clerical error checked the positive box, the four of us were pronounced negative. Everyone in the room cheered and we embarked, leaving Will and a piece of our hearts behind.

My first thought upon waking this morning, “I can’t possibly choke down one more croissant!” I hear the “food’s here” knock, drag myself out of bed and open the door. Yep, two croissants with jam and Nutella but also, hot coffee! Its warmth across my lips and down my throat feels like a comforting hug reminding me that no matter what comes next, it will be ok.

On December 29, Italy changed its quarantine rules. By our read, close contacts with no symptoms would no longer require quarantine. We excitedly sent this information to Fabio and Luigi, asking how soon we might be able to leave. Excitement about getting to the ship in time for orientation overshadowed disappointment about missing the Homecoming Voyage until we received a series of replies. “Those rules don’t go into effect until January 10,” read one. “We have not seen this here. This does not apply to you,” read another. Deflated but determined, we continued communication with our support team on the ship and kept moving forward.

After days of limited, vague responses, we received word on Friday from Fabio we would all be tested. Excitement reverberated across the Quarantini group texts as we waited, and waited. Even though it had only been three days since his positive result, Will was tested, as were the other two who had previously tested positive. “Anybody else tested yet?” Tyler messaged followed by a series of “no” responses. As the sun went down, hope did too. Just before bed, Fabio messaged Chris that the rest of us would test on Monday. Disappointed, some hope lingered with the promise of Will’s results by the next morning but dwindled with each passing day until we resigned ourselves to the fact they wouldn’t matter anyway. We busied minds and bodies and tried to let go.

Though a dreary day, we awoke early Monday with renewed optimism. Both excited for and dreading the test, we were distracted with calls into some of the SAS orientation meetings, and I began to imagine joining the ship soon. As the hours passed, my heart raced and limbs felt weak. I accumulated 5000 steps through pacing alone, and anxiety kept my focus elusive. By mid-afternoon, following a series of non-answers, Fabio messaged us to expect to test within the hour. The morning’s anticipation had been replaced by agitation which manifested in each of us differently. Tyler demanded answers, Jonah and Lianne respectfully followed orders, the Lindas slathered gratitude and well-wishes on the testers, Liv and I cried. Chris strategically schmoozed, trying to leverage his rapport with Luigi. Though we were “promised” results the next day, I felt defeated and helpless.

As I fought back the barrage of negativity that was flooding my brain, Chris whispered, “it’s dark, let’s go!” We bundled up and snuck out the front door. We are in a gated facility, so we weren’t going far, but we walked about 200 yards to the beach. Holding hands, we looked at the stars, reset our minds and walked back to our room.

Back in wifi, a text alert from Liv and Tyler read, “Who wants to try to order pizza?!” All in, we brainstormed, problem-solved and achieved pizza delivery in quarantine prison! With his ever-steady perspective and humor, Will rallied us further, “Guys! Top Gun in English on Italian TV Channel 6!” Each in our own rooms, we tuned in together sharing Tom Cruise jokes and trivia through Quarantini.

Hopes high and expectations low, we wait. No results today. With all we have, we hold on, reset when necessary and embrace each warm hug that reminds us everything will be ok.

The days in quarantine move quickly marked by sunrise, meal delivery three times a day, and sunset. The in-between is filled with exercise, reading and movies, back patio games, and work when wifi will allow. Information is a moving target; emotions rise and plunge with each tidbit, while joy and gratitude juxtapose sadness, frustration and worry within each moment.

Fabio, the quarantine hotel coordinator, is the contact for all things COVID related. He is kind and clearly overwhelmed managing “guests” in at least two hotels that are at capacity. He will communicate only through What’s App using a translator. Questions from all of us but Chris typically go unheeded. Chris’ charm and patience have won Fabio over though. “Dear Chris, it is a pleasure to chat with you,” he wrote, “you are a very ok person.” Luigi is the on-site director and contact for our basic needs – coffee, wine, toilet paper. I’m pretty sure he is weary by now of all our requests, but he remains pleasant and after a sincere heart to heart about our frustrations, he delivered a bottle of champagne to each of our doors to celebrate the new year. Though sweet, both Fabio and Luigi have their limits, invoking the police any time we push too hard or too often.

A croissant and jam are served every morning then meat, pasta and bread for lunch and supper. Most dishes are quite tasty, though generally cold, and it’s become a fun game to see what iteration of pasta we will receive next. All the carbohydrates have inspired us to exercise. We do planks on the hour and have calculated that 146 laps on our patio make a mile. Push-ups, sit-ups and jumping jacks round out the routine. Next door, Will is teaching himself to do a handstand and upstairs Liv is setting burpee records. Once a day, in masks, the Lindas slip through our glass door to soak up some sun and stretch on the patio.

Team Seng meetings continue daily. Cathy, Sarah and Feng who are other detainees with backside windows, have become affiliate members. Through our respective portals, we discuss the latest information about our predicament, review the most recent pasta dish, vent, cry and laugh. At a distance we’ve played Farkel and Scattergories and shared a New Year’s Eve toast. Between games, Jonah and Lianne patiently watch the spinning wifi wheel while attending to work and job applications, and Tyler provides regular sporting updates. We keep the Quarantini group chat buzzing with jokes, memes, questions and musings.

While grateful for their window and the beautiful ocean view, Liv and Tyler have a challenging situation with no way to get outside. Feeling down and needing some sparkling water, they got creative. A Navy seaman, Tyler fashioned a rope by knotting together extra sheets and Liv lowered it to the patio below where Will attached a backpack filled with goodies. It’s the simple things.

And time passes. We hold onto gratitude for the simple things, for good health, our advocates at Semester at Sea, and love and prayers sent from afar. We support one another through disappointments as we ride the waves, remaining hopeful to trade the metaphorical ones for some in the Mediterranean soon.