Programs Blog

Author: Nicholas Lapic, C Watch, College of the Atlantic ’26

Ship’s Log

March 5th, 2024

Position: Anchored at Kaikoura

Ship Heading: I just said we were anchored were not moving.

Weather: Bright (but cold) morning with clouds from Olympus blessing our
mountainous covers followed by a solemn greyness enveloping the sky in the
afternoon with light drizzles.

This has been hard. But then again, it was never advertised as easy.

In times of hardship and difficulty I like to find comfort in nature. Like a
toddler drawn to a cat I am drawn to the birds around me. The petrel swarms,
tern ghosts, and the absolutely obscene amount of albatross we’ve seen on
this voyage (like, my lord have we seen a lot) has brought me unending joy.
I’ve been 20 degrees off my course because I was staring at an odd
silhouette that vaguely resembled a winged creature. This is what I spent
most of my watch today doing: daydreaming of birds and believing to see them
in every mountain and cloud I saw. Because of this mental distraction, watch
today felt confusing and long.

After watch felt a little nicer as I could sit and write most of the day.

I’ll skip ahead a lot because the aforementioned sitting and writing is all
that happened in the 10 hours after watch if I’m being frank.  When we
finally anchored at Kaikoura, I sat atop the deck top and tried to draw,
despite the lack of inspiration and motivation. It was sitting up here that
I watched a bee crash land in front of me.

The bee was black with a brown mid stripe and a white speckled rear. It was
a new bee to me, one I’ve never seen before. Honestly, I had forgotten that
bees even existed up until this point. I had forgotten the joy of seeing a
fluffy bee wiggle about on a flower. The little bee seemed to shiver in the
cold with me atop the boat, in this territory unfamiliar and wholly new to
him. He must have travelled so far and long to get here today.  I sat there
with him, watching intently as he gripped against the wind and attempted to
shuffle his way to the safety of a cave made of rope. The thought of that
bee warm and secure on a boat all too big and much too dangerous for him
made me unreasonably happy. He made me feel content and safe.

The little niceties seem to be what I remember the most out of these days at
sea. The drawings people make (shout out to SHART), intriguing showering
methods, playing ukulele with friends and Tiegan, and more importantly, the
little bee I saw. I’m excited for what will bring me joy next. Perhaps it
will be a pink bee or a hug. I hope it’s both.

(P.S. Shout out to bees for existing and also I guess my family (I love you
all!)).

(P.S.S. Update on the mutagen: several crew members have been transformed
but due to the nature of the Great Ones, they have been forgotten as humans
and only remembered as incredibly well armed walruses).

(P.S.S.S. I guess we also saw Hector’s Dolphins today but not a bird or bee
so no reason to care for me).

Nicholas Lapic, C Watch, College of the Atlantic ’26

https://sea.edu/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/ghosts-of-bridssmall.jpg