Sailing to Newfoundland

Sunday September 3rd – At Sea – Sailing to Newfoundland

 

The Plan:

 

Shipboard activities,  hopefully church services 

 

The Reality: 

 

As we departed the waters around Nanortalik, and sailed out into the Sea of Labrador, I had this feeling that this was going to not be an ordinary sail away.

 

When I realized the captain had ordered the anchor aweigh, I hastily made my way to the deck 9 and walked out onto the weather deck. I had just walked to the railing to view this magnificent scene when the captain began his parting salute to our Carnival Corporation sister ship the Seaborne Quest. Three blasts, with a return of three blasts from the Quest, then three longs and a short from the Rotterdam. What an experience!

Once underway, I went down to the Crows Nest, out of the bone chilling breeze to continue watching this panorama of sea, icebergs and crusty islands slipping past the near 180 degree view widows. As I strolled amongst the guests gathered there, listening to positive and negative stories of past experiences, I realized this was not the “background audio” that this setting required.  Returning from my stateroom with my Apple Music providing the sound track, I settled in to just enjoy the passing scene.

 

Icebergs are like snowflakes, there are no two the same and as I observed these “crystal palaces” on their journey to destruction by wind and waves, it occurred to me that this is the handy work of the Almighty.  HE alone set in place those forces that would take millions of  tiny snowflakes, turn then into monstrous  glaciers, then carve them into smaller pieces to return to the sea where they would eventually melt and get ready for the life cycle to begin again.

 

Here, part of this cycle was taking place before the eyes of those gathered, reading their books or evolved in some other activity.  My music took my mind away from all that and enveloped me in thoughts about life that sometime brought tears to my eyes.

 

Look there, is that the Rock of Gibraltar?, What about that China Clipper floating peacefully at anchor after it’s pan pacific flight, or that WWII flattop, just returning to Pearl Harbor to repair it’s battle scars. They were all there for the imagination to see.  No photograph could do those travelers of the sea, justice.  And then an occasional sea bird, a Fulmar, I think, would zip by, surfing the waves less than an inch above the water, as if it was sending us it’s own farewell salute.

 

Finally, as we sailed farther out and the rolling waves became more prominent, I observed one small remnant of what could have once been a mighty mountain of ice, in it’s final battle with the sea as it bobbed and dived in the waves, at times just the tip could be seen before it boldly “came up for air”. 

 

Too soon the veil of sea mist closed the curtain on this magnificent performance, and old King Neptune was back in charge, sometimes not so gently pitching us to a fro.

 

Jack W Cummings VOV 2017 –  To and Fro on the Sea of Labrador