When Jesus got into a boat, his disciples followed him. A huge storm arose on the lake so that waves were sloshing over the boat. But Jesus was asleep. They came and woke him, saying, “Lord, rescue us! We’re going to drown!”

He said to them, “Why are you afraid, you people of weak faith?”

Matthew 8:23-26

I’m writing this post on the veranda outside our cabin. It’s Thursday, and Rebekah and I are enjoying the most windy, blustery, and splashy afternoon of our twelve days at sea!

Right now we’re steaming between Cuba and the Bahamas. It’s the first time we’ve been able to see waves breaking in the open water.

The wind is strong, and even on deck eleven I can taste salt in the air. It’s both invigorating and a little humbling to be out here in this swirling cauldron of deep waters. I can feel the power.

Today, as we have simply enjoyed life onboard ship, I am thankful for this opportunity, thinking about the places I have sailed and the counties I have been privileged to visit.

I have sailed from England to France, the North Sea from England to the Norwegian fjords, the Inner Seas to the Scottish islands, the Mediterranean from Greece to Israel, the Pacific from Seattle up to Alaska, the Caribbean to Mexico and to Central and South America, and the Atlantic out to Bermuda.

But this is the first time it has been just me and Rebekah, recalibrating and reimagining what life is going to look like in this new era, moving on from the past five or six years and into tomorrow.

My parents:

So here we are making some big splashes in increasingly heavy seas…. I know my mum and dad would have loved a day like today. Mum would have stayed inside but dad would have been leaning over the railing enjoying the wind – he would have wanted to get to the prow and hopefully get splashed a little…

This ship feels a little like a metaphor for life. Plowing through the water on calm days and stormy days, soaking up both the sunshine and the rain, putting into port once in a while but always with a direction and a destination or else – rudderless – we would founder. Sometimes there is a party on board and sometimes all is quiet. And then, maybe as long as 92 and 94 years into the voyage all engines stop and the vessel slips gently below the waves.

I feel a little of everything this afternoon: the party, the favoring wind, the storm, the purpose, the sense of being out of depth, the anticipation of more adventure, the grief of those who slipped into eternity, the excitement of many ports of call to come.

Yes I am rambling. But here, on this stormy afternoon, in this liminal space between what has been and what is yet to come, I am on the high seas and I cannot help but let it all wash over me. – DEREK