Programs Blog

July 1, 2025

Time: 1807

Location: Just North of the Equator!

Weather: Sunny!

Hello everyone,

Although it’s officially been summer since the solstice, today has felt especially seasonal and special! Maybe this is because we’ve finally hit July, or because us shellbacks have all been reveling in our newly acquired Equator-crossing glow. 

I started my day at 0100, since A Watch was assigned to dawn watch, and spent the wee hours of the morning collecting pH and Chlorophyll-A samples in lab with Amelia and Jordan. We then decorated the ship for Gillian’s birthday, counted and sorted hundreds of zoops before we finally turned over the morning responsibilities to B watch at 0700. It had been a pretty quiet and typical dawn watch, but we were all exhausted, so it was then time to hit the hay for the next few hours. I woke up in time to do some yoga on the quarterdeck (only fell over a couple times today!), and help Elle find a marine fun fact to add to her navigation report before class. We settled on the following: a leatherback must cry two gallons an hour per day, just to keep its blood less salty than the sea. 

Beth’s lecture that day was about governing the seabed, and we talked about how the US is beginning to venture into deep sea mining practices with The Metals Company without the approval of UNCLOS or the ISA. The weirdest part about school on a ship, besides sleeping two feet away from your professors, is learning about these crucial and time-sensitive political acts and conferences, which are occurring, changing, and being updated as we speak, even if we have no way of knowing about it. 

The idea of being completely severed from the world has been difficult for a lot of us to fully grasp. I was having a conversation about this with Jenna and Madelyn on the charthouse roof after that class, and realized that this has actually been one of the most fruitful and interesting parts of my whole experience. While I sometimes wish that I could call my family or do a real NYT crossword puzzle, I really don’t miss the internet at all. 

Before I left, my mom told me that being here would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and probably the only time in my life where I would actually be able to live in the ‘now’, with no distractions from the outside world, and nothing to worry about besides what goes on aboard the Bobby C. I didn’t really understand what she meant until I experienced a complete shift to my concept of time. One six hour period can feel like an eternity, and a whole week can feel like three days. I am constantly busy and circling through a (seemingly) never-ending cycle of waiting for my next watch, looking forward to my next moment of free time, waiting for my friends to get off of their watch, and calculating when I should be sleeping to accommodate the next days’ pattern. 

However, this arrangement has generally worked for me so far. As a self-appointed schedule and list-oriented person, I love knowing where I’ll be at every moment of every day, and literally checking off completed tasks on the lab’s whiteboard. Furthermore, these scheduled moments of super high highs and super low lows have enabled me to be completely present in everything I experience – the good, the mundane, and the awful. 

I’ve also noticed and enjoyed that here, disconnected to terrestrial life, I am free of guilt. I don’t have to feel bad about not being caught up on the news or the atrocities that are probably happening all over the world. And I always get to feel productive during my free time – because drawing in my sheet anchor, reading, or making friendship bracelets are all activities that add to my experience. I know that if I did have access to my phone, I’d spent more time scrolling in my bunk, feeling guilty about the lost time I could/should be spending building friendships or cultivating more knowledge. 

These thoughts have been floating around my head and in the pages of my journal since I arrived in Mo’orea. They’ve helped me want to make the most of, or at least feel connected to, every present moment. My mom’s words have guided me towards being able to find more gratitude in just being, while also allowing myself the space to be a little upset or impatient when boat life just becomes a little too much for me. 

During our last watch meeting, Jordan also asked us to reflect on our perspective of time on this journey so far – especially since we have just hit the halfway mark of our voyage. Since my concept of time is so warped, I can’t tell if it feels like I’ve been here for two seconds or four months, or if “two-ish weeks left” sounds super short or unbearably long. After exploring my thoughts on this in my journal for three days – erasing, rewriting, and erasing again – I still have not come to a full conclusion on what it means for us to be halfway done. All I know for sure is that I can finally switch to my other set of sheets.

Mama, papa, Ora, Aubie – je vous envoie plein d’amour et d’xo! Vous me manquez beaucoup, et Aubie t’avais raison – je m’y habitue avec le temps et je m’amuse beaucoup plus. Faites de gros bisous `a Peach de ma part!

Flo Robbins, A-Watch

University of Wisconsin-Madison