Who said that the last few days after final exams should be restful days where our only focus should be cleaning up and packing up? As we anchored off Scheveningen and prepared for our upcoming grand arrival and family reunions, we decided students were ready for one last event, the Student Takeover. While we cleaned our ship and inventoried the contents of our benches, interested student had to apply formally, and completed an interview with all our officers for their desired maritime position. Positions available: captain, officers, bosun, able seamen/deck hands (AB), shipboard director, cooks, medical officer, and engineers.

I (Marilyn) could tell you how amazingly they did today. Our new leadership team organized our deep clean, motivated the team to keep going to complete all required tasks, and assumed responsibility for the last galley clean up shift of the day when everyone else was exhausted. All of that happened while they sailed us safely into one last harbour before Amsterdam. However, I got Holly, AB for the day, to talk to all the participating students and get their own perception of the day instead! Here you go:

Sebastian: Captain

The best part: Kicking the captain out of the bridge.

The hardest part: Dealing with the unexpected.

Something you learned: You can plan everything ahead, but things always change.

Emma W: 1st Officer

The best part: Being 1st officer

The hardest part: Being 1st officer, running the ship, and planning.

Something you learned: How to be the 1st officer. I learned how to better understand all the different working, procedures, and communication that goes on behind the scenes without the students noticing.

Thomas: 3rd Officer

The best part: Realizing we don’t always need to rely on the maritime crew and can sail the ship ourselves.

The hardest part: Staying focused and keeping things on track.

Something you learned: I learned all the proper procedures. I leaned the real job that the officers do.

Margaux: AB

The best part: During the morning watch, from 5am to 8am, we heaved anchor ourselves, leaving anchorage with sun rising and setting sails all by ourselves.

The hardest part: You have to be confident when making decisions because I’ve realized that I often know the answer but don’t have the confidence to actually make it happen.

Something you learned: Looking back, I realized how much I know and the last day made me realize that my hard work over the last 9 months has paid off.

Shaddai: AB

The best part: Setting all the sails ourselves and realizing that we can do so much and watching a beautiful sunset on 5am to 8am watch.

The hardest part: Getting up early and having to make things happen.

Something you learned: I learned to what extent my knowledge has expanded throughout the nine months on board.

Ben: Engineer

The best part: Working in the engine room.

The hardest part: Having a fire alarm drill.

Something you learned: It’s not all about being an engineer but also knowing your way around the inside of the ship.

Aiga: AB

The best part: Working on deck and having more responsibility. Realizing the knowledge I have.

The hardest part: Delegating tasks and keeping an overview.

Something you learned: I learned to have more confidence in what I know.

Zara: Engineer

The best part of your day: Learning new things and being hands on.

The hardest Part: It was tiring.

Something I learned: We are even more capable than we realize.

Dom: Cook

The best part: Everyone enjoying the food and a long second’s line.

The hardest part: Dinner prep and realizing all the work and the time pressures.

Something you learned: I gained more leadership skills.

Lulu: Shipboard director

The best part: Getting to stand up at Colours and getting the students to do stuff. I had fun with wake-ups.

The hardest part: Organizing the deep clean, delegating, and getting people motivated.

Something you learned: That Cody’s job is super hard. It stressed me out and I only did it for a day. I can’t imagine how Cody did it for 9 months.

Claire: Medical Officer

The best part: Overseeing and floating between different cleaning stations, helping out across the ship, and being supportive.

The hardest part: Having to make your own decisions and not having someone always telling you what you should be doing.

Something you learned: There is a lot of discretion involved with being the medical officer onboard.

Mauricio: 1st Officer

The best part: Being in control of the sailing manoeuvres.

The hardest part: Dealing with the fire alarm.

Something you learned: Steering the ship is like a video game.

Lukas: Bosun

The best part: Being able to put your knowledge to use.

The hardest Part: Nothing was particularly hard, but it was frustrating getting the energy going.

Something you learned: I learned how to better direct and manage a group of people.

Austin: AB

The best part: Harbour furling the headsails after a successful sail with my shipmates.

Hardest Part: How short the sail was, I wish it was longer than one day.

Something you learnt: Hauling on the reef lines can help greatly when getting a sail down.

Holly: AB

The best part: It was fun to actually get to put your knowledge to use, get to use your brain.

The hardest part: Getting people involved and working.

Something you learnt: Putting yourself in the shoes of the crew and understanding the work they do.

Living on a tall ship while studying is something that many cannot imagine, let alone are able to share as their story for a year. This is something that I am immensely grateful for. I always enjoy port time: eating way too much food, meeting amazing people, and seeing beautiful sights but being at sea is where I prefer to be. No matter how far flung the port is, it is the very next crossing that I crave the most, the open ocean, and the sailing experience.

While at sea, I always feel calm and relaxed and there is always so much to do. I love that I wake up in the morning knowing that all throughout the night, the Watches arose (as did I) and sailed the ship safely, so their fellow crew members could sleep. Watch is one of my favourite parts of ship life. The ship only works with team work and the community that is created to be both supportive and challenging. The sailing is not the main attraction for many of the students who are longing for the amazing port experiences. For me personally, sailing is the reason I am here and it truly is what I love and want to do. The ship is amazing for the way in which it balances this with a great mix of amazing sailing and learning opportunities as well as port programs that create world citizens. Watch is fundamental in the running of the ship but also to the development of community, teamwork and leadership: this is one of the reasons I love to be on watch.

On board the ship, we stand one night watch and one day watch in a twenty four hour period. Day watch is a period of the day during which we help on deck, sailing the ship and undertaking maintenance activities. Day watch is always a great way to break up sitting in the classroom studying by getting outside and working hands on. Day watch is always different too as the weather and location is ever changing, along with the work and maintenance that needs to be done. For me, striving for a career in the Tall Ship Sailing Industry, it is something that I always look forward to. I love being on deck with the smiles of the maritime crew and the joy of setting, striking, or trimming sails. Maintenance such as sanding, rust busing, or repairing a damaged sail also provides a challenge and a new learning opportunity. The range of knowledge that we learn on watch is vast and not only do we learn, but we learn from each other and we learn to teach one another too.

Some of my favourite watch memories range from laying on the monkey deck next to my fellow watch members, sanding the gutters, and trimmings; climbing aloft in rough rainy weather while the ship is rolling, furling the square sails; taking helm or lookout enjoying the fun on the bridge or just looking at the crystal clear water and starry skies. I could name all of the amazing things I have done on watch but more than anything, it is the little things that make watch special. An extra good pot of tea made by the watch or just the positive atmosphere and jokes in the bridge. Watch is a time during which our team building and leadership skills are challenged.

For me, growing up on a yacht and then working on tall ships since a very young age, I have had plenty of sailing experience but the distance from my home and the ships at home has allowed me to view things differently. I have realized the importance of every moment and learnt to never take anything for granted. I believe that due to my overall experience and time on watch, I have developed as a young adult and also as a leader. I will never forget my time spent on watch aboard the Gulden Leeuw and I will forever look back on the amazing times and not so amazing times that I have had on watch.

Watch is a special time for me and many others and I find it hard to do it justice in words. I can truly say that I have developed and learn many irreplaceable skills during my time on watch and I have always enjoyed it. Watch will always be a special part of your time on board a ship and the attitude that you bring to watch shapes the experiences that you get back. Living on a ship is not easy but you can make it what you want it to be. You get back what you put into ship life.

When you’ve been living on the ocean for a little while, you develop a deep connection, a unique bond with your surroundings that allows you to feel utterly connected with nature. It is in the small moments that we understand it. By breathing in the humid and salty air, by being completely soaked when a wave breaks on the hull of our ship, by feeling the wind hugging our faces and going though our hair, by moving with the motion of the swell, by hearing the constant hissing of the flowing water… It is a bond that can hardly be explained but that is worth sharing.

I remember just yesterday night, I was on lookout and my friend was at the helm. In front of me, the horizon was pitch black and silent. One could not differentiate the water from the sky nor identify the shapes of the waves. But right there, right above our heads, thousands of stars, if I could have counted them all, were hanging very high in the sky. A precious gift from the universe to lighten the night. As I turned my head to my dear friend, he was looking straight in the air with an innocent smile and sparks in his eyes. He was in total admiration of nature. A gift it sure was: pure joy. His expression showed wonder and a thirst for discovery.

Or shall I point out that day of November, when we swam for the first time in the open sea not seeing either shore, or land, or anything but the endless ocean. I vividly remember this moment like it was yesterday. I closed my eyes and laid floating in the salty water for several minutes. The sun was setting and its rays were piercing through the surface, warming up my skin. I felt the comfort of the water surrounding my body and I had the feeling that everything would be okay.

Another significant moment would be right now, as I am writing. I am writing these words sitting on a bench outside on the deck of our sailing vessel in the middle of the sea, crossing the Atlantic. We’ve been having such rough weather; the horizon is continuously covered with dark patches, the waves building insanely high, the wind blowing with an outstanding force… and this description might not even be enough to express the intensity of the voyage conditions. We are literally breathing in salt water, we are cold and tired but we all got together to sail the ship as best as we could. We organize each other, work together with great rhythm and pay attention to nature’s doings, almost like a dance!

On the night of the starry sky, without knowing it at the time, we truly understood the meaning of the saying: “There is not enough darkness in the whole world to put out of light only one star”. There was also a world that we had yet to discover and we had just realized it.

Or perhaps that afternoon, swimming in one of the biggest ocean surrounded by amazing people, I understood how unique every moment is, how gorgeous everything has the potential to be if only we would let it be without trying to control it. And right now, I see courage and resilience in the people surrounding me, and in myself. I notice how skillful we have become when needing to face adversity and how communicative we have naturally become. I am amazed with the unique force everyone possesses.

In all of this, I am certain that we would not have grown this rapidly as a community and as individuals if it wasn’t for the environment. This bond with our surroundings is a mean of great realizations. The ocean, seemingly limitless, evokes in us a sense of wonder. When we sail, there are creatures beyond our imagination concealed beneath the waves. The movement of the clouds and the fluctuation of the winds teaches us anticipation and develops our intuition. The rising sun shows us appreciation and patience. Also, not really knowing where we are going wakes in us a sense of fascination for being in the moment. And there lies the very connection between us: nature. We are constantly inspired by its aspects: its force, its balance, its beauty and much more.

Living on the ocean has taught me so much and I see that it has transformed my shipmates as well. And there is so much more to be inspired by… It is sure that I will come back when I’ll have the chance to. But in my time here, on this vessel sailing through the waves, the greatest gift is and will always be this unique connection with nature; a bond that as brought me closer to my environment, and to myself. I’ll forever be thankful for the moments of discovery, the adventure, the lessons, the inspiration, the friendships, and the joy.

So jump in, my friends, and sail away!

On Class Afloat, sails range from three to eighteen days. However, the time you have throughout the sails depict the feeling of the length. There were times when a crossing flew by as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, and then there were times when a five day sail felt like land was never going to approach, and the thought of quayside seemed so foreign. There are many factors that contribute to how a sail affects me emotionally, and physically.

Considering the drastic temperature change that I have recently been thrown into, I like to believe that I have adapted. I am slowly learning the skill of putting on five layers of clothing, and then finally, to complete the masterpiece, putting on my foully weather gear. I never knew it would take such preparation to do something so simple as to go outside. Clothing is only the physical part of the preparation. I must also prepare myself mentally to open the door and accept that there is going to be a gust of freezing cold wind ready to attack me, as it knows how vulnerable I am in my island skin. All pessimism aside, I always feel proud after completing watch, or enduring colours in the morning. It feels as though I have stood up to Mother Nature and her unbearable conditions. I would be lying if I said that something as elementary as weather didn’t affect the length of my sails, because it truly does. However, now that I am acclimatized, it no longer ruins my days.

Another factor that affects my sailing experiences is food. Yes, food affects me in every way, which is ironic since I am such a small eater. When I have many snacks, and Frank puts together a delightful meal, my day goes by like a speed bolt. On the contrary, when my snack bag consists of only air particles, and the boat meals don’t appeal to my appetite, it feels like the day is torturing me slowly. The finest meal in my opinion are tacos, not to mention chocolate chip cookies on night snack on watch.

This leads me into the next phenomenon that affects my sails: night watch. Depending on the weather, how many sails are up, and the motor, we either have full watches or half watches. When we have full watch for more than two days in a row, my body starts to malfunction, and I become mentally and physically unstable throughout the day, and I am not hyperbolizing. In all fairness, at least I am no longer on four to six a.m watch, which impacted my sleep schedule very negatively. I am now on the first night watch, which is always full watch. However, it leaves me the whole night to myself and I do not have to get woken up out of the deepest of all sleeps anymore. I am proud to say that I am finally in a stable place when it comes to my night watch. I am in a good time period, I have adapted to the cold, and Marilyn (my watch dog) comes to the watch more since it’s earlier so that is also a plus.

The final ingredient in my recipe for a good and quick sail is entertainment. Having movies to watch with friends, art projects, board game nights, and other fun activities to do allows the sail to speed up. When I slump all day in my bunk, hoping someone wakes me up for at least dinner, I feel incompetent and depressed. This puts my thoughts in slow motion, hence decreasing my patience for land. I will admit that so far, I can always find someone to talk to or hang out with in the mess and keep me company, so it never gets too bad.

To wrap it up, factors such as temperature, food, night watches and entertainment affect my sails. I anticipate that I am not alone in being affected by these factors. They affect everyone, and we all get through it together as a microcosm. One month left is simply not enough.

Over the span of these last 8 months at sea, I have come across an observation that I cannot shake anymore; if you aren’t at the right place at the right time – when it comes to sailing, you become somewhat expandable. It is not always the greatest feeling. Here is what I mean by expandable; you feel useless and replaceable.

I put emphasis on the word “feel”, because of course, no one here will actually be replaced, especially if they simply stand idle by. But the reason why this feeling seems to bother me so much (I cannot speak on behalf of all my shipmates, however, after discussing this with some friends, most seemed to agree and relate to my description) is that during “All-Hands” call, sailing manoeuvres aren’t just part of Watch anymore, it becomes a social activity between all of us. Maritime crew, Teacher crew, Student crew: for the most part, everyone shows up. The dynamics are changed: you pull lines with people you don’t usually get to sail with, as we retain the same watch groups. And when all of us are together, that is when I find the silliest stuff and the most fun happens. I love moments when the entire boat seems to be having a good time. There is no better example of teamwork than when it comes to sailing, if you ask me.

The fact remains: not everyone gets to participate. Here is an example. Your watch is sent down to raise a jib. You start flaking the downhaul line, make it off and up the sail goes. When you turn around to help on the halyard, there is absolutely no space for you to jump on. In fact, there are so many people on the line that it isn’t even efficiently going up. There is more than enough hands on the sheets and it most likely doesn’t need a preventer. All that is left to do is to stand idle and watch. You might as well go back up to the Bridge deck or start coiling.

Alright, maybe you aren’t completely useless then, but here is another example. On March 1st, we had an all hands call. At first we thought it was an April fools joke, but it wasn’t. It was our snow day, so I only had flip flops and a blanket on: not the best for sailing. By the time I made it to the bridge deck, people were running with the halyards of the Main, towards the aft of the ship, raising the sail in a surprisingly fast and effective way. It looked like so much fun. But knowing that the bridge was already over capacity, I stayed back. No need for me to be up there. So I went to the foredeck. There were already plenty of students putting on harnesses, but for some reason, I was the third one on the bowsprit. I guess I didn’t want to just stand around again.

Bear with me on this one, as I pretend to know what I am talking about and theorize as to what could explain my dislike of being idle. So, why is it so important to me, or to anyone else really, to be a part of the action, to be one with the team? Perhaps it is this comfortable sense of family, of a pack that we have made for ourselves on board of the Gulden Leeuw. We strive to be a part of a community to avoid the inevitable loneliness that comes with the open ocean and long periods of loss of contacts with our outside worlds. Those worlds become one: life on the boat, and most importantly, the people on it. So yes, when everyone is having fun, it is understandable that we would want to be a part of it, it becomes important.

Following this idea of importance, what if being part of something that matters makes us feel important? Or maybe it is as simple as the team aspect of the all hands call, the air charged full of camaraderie, the excited shouting of “2-6!!” and whatever else some clown on the line can comes up to yell. It’s so much fun when we all work together. I can’t stress that enough.

Sometimes, I think that the things we do are done to be remembered, to feel like we matter. This doesn’t automatically mean we are searching for validation, and I certainly do not want to put everyone in this box, but if you are like me, watching from the sidelines, not being a part of the action, is just something I don’t like. It grinds my teeth. Greenhand Nick told me the other day “You can be a part of this experience or you can watch it happen”, and God forbid I watch this slip away.

As we left the beautiful islands of the Azores, we entered our second and last long sail of the year. We left behind us a picturesque painted dock filled with traces of Class Afloat’s early years and ours. With the help of many student and staff, Hanna, a very talented artist, designed and painted our Class Afloat mural.

Our design, which blended in with the sea of other murals on the quay, is a symbol of our stay in the Azores. Then, as we left the dock, we got a grand goodbye from the surrounding training sailing vessels and tall ships of Horta. They honked and yelled goodbye as we sailed away into the sunset. One of them was a sail training vessel from Germany called Thor Heyerdahl. Many of the students got to meet them either by visiting their ship or when they visited ours.

Plastic consumption is an important part of our day to day life on Class Afloat as we are living on the ocean. Every other day, we find plastic floating in the ocean and it’s simply a reminder of the harsh reality that our plastic consumption is outrageous. It is no surprise that the students of the Ocean 11 class started a campaign to reduce those tendencies. On the boat, we only have a compost bin and a garbage bin. They wanted to create 4 different bins for our next sail: paper, plastic, garbage and a recycling bin. The students also created a small bin next to the coffee machine and the boiling water machine to recycle coffee filters and tea bags because normally students would throw them into the compost bin. I personally think we should keep these ideas for the next years of Class Afloat and reduce all our plastic consumptions, because most of it ends up in the ocean anyway, and for us, the ocean is our home.

This sail we also had our last snow day ever! The students had a later Colours and had the time to relax in the morning. Some watched movies, while others finished their homework. For lunch, our cooks and staff made us tacos, which is one of the favourite meals prepared on board. After lunch, we had an All Hands calls but students didn’t know if it was an April’s fool joke or if there really was an All Hands. In the end, there was an all hands call, to put all the sails up because we had just hit big winds. The students were excited not to be motoring anymore and to be sailing again. While setting the sails, we invented a new way to haul the sails up, running. We would take the rope and together, we run the opposite way. Interestingly enough, this technique seemed more effective than conventional hauling. It was quite funny seeing everyone running and screaming while raising a sail up; a good memory to remember.

As we get into our last two months of the experience, more and more of the students are starting to realize that the end is near. Some of us will never see the boat or the people on it ever again, and this creates a form of nostalgia. For me, it is completely different: I have given so much to this program and all the opportunities that Class Afloat has given me have made me a better person. This may sound cheesy from the outside, but Class Afloat has taught me to be honest and to give everyone a chance for friendship; even by writing this I am tearing up. For some of us, it is our graduating year and every moment is important to us. We have to take in everything we can before the end, not only of Class Afloat, but of our high school years.

Just as most people do chores at home, Class Afloat is no exception. Here on the boat there never ceases to be a shortage of cleaning that needs to get done. But just because there’s an endless supply of dirty undies and deck scrubbing doesn’t mean it can’t be fun.

A typical morning on the Gulden Leeuw starts with a good morning wakeup of questionable music, courtesy of the six to nine watch. After quite literally rolling out of bed, everyone heads up to morning muster, known as Colours. Once things like salsa Saturday and other upcoming actives are announced, the Watches break off to do Happy Hour, also known as cleaning stations. There are six main stations that get cleaned every morning: bridge deck, main deck, foreword heads (bathrooms), aft heads, dorms and the mess which is our common area. Currently my watch, watch four, is cleaning the mess. We chose to divide the tasks by day and rotate through the normal week schedule.

Tasks, such as sweeping the hardwood floor, wiping surfaces like tables and benches, cleaning the coffee and tea pots, organizing the fridge/saving the fridge from leftover stinky, slimy Horta port cheese and scrubbing the slippery stairs are just a few of the jobs that need to be done in the mess.

There are many unique ways to make happy hour amusing and creative. One example would be while cleaning the main or bridge deck, to have light-saber battle with the scrubbing brooms. Sadly, we have lost many brooms to the great light saber battles. Another great example would be to have an impromptu flash mob/dance battle while blasting music in the mess (because that’s where George’s big speaker is). An alternative to crazy dance battles would be to have a karaoke party while cleaning. Finally, one of my favourite ways to improve cleaning is to do poorly choreographed dance routines to songs like the Macarena or Cotton-Eyed Joe while cleaning counters.

Throughout the day, we clean dishes, if in galley, make sure laundry gets pushed through, ship’s laundry before crews always, and make sure to keep our beloved ship overall clean and tidy. On the days that we have a harsh heal it gets more difficult to clean. For example, when serving lunch that just so happens to be soup, when healing at a 15-degree angle, it gets chaotic. As you can imagine the soup ends up more in our hair and on the walls, than in our mouths. There is an extra cleaning task that comes with stormy days, yes, puke parties! Whether being the one puking or an unfortunate bystander, everyone gets to take part in supporting one another during these eventful days.

The aftermath of a strong heal leaning starboard-side. Gravity tends to hate the fridge door. Many lives of jam jars and applesauce were lost to the roughness of the unforgiving rouge waves. Captain wasn’t too happy about the sea stowing job on this one.

This last sail and the biggest cleaning trial was the battle of the cheesy broken-down fridge. Unfortunately, during the sail from Horta to London, one night the most aft fridge stopped working. Nobody noticed that it had broken. The fridge was filled from top to bottom with the inexpensive, delicious and fresh Portuguese cheese. Slowly as the night watches went by, the unpasteurized cheese inside started to rot and collapse into piles of sweaty, dirty sock smelling, puddle-like, lumps of slime. In the morning, Watch Four were the poor souls who got the burden of cleaning the mess, which included throwing out leftovers and tidying the fridge. As they opened the fridge expecting last nights pulled pork and previous dinner leftovers, they were welcomed with a cheesy nightmare.

Picture of the delicious Horta cheese before it all melted away. Luckily, we managed to get in some cheesy photos before the disaster. Most if them turned out pretty gouda.

After all this time and only a bit over a month left to go, we’ve all gotten pretty good at keeping it neat. Even though cleaning our beloved boat is a mandatory daily job that at times can be tough, the satisfaction of having a clean and tidy home never ceases to put a smile on everyone’s faces.

After 18 days of school at sea, the students and crew needed a break. The patience of everybody was getting short and our full night watches were catching up to our tiredness. This sail was not our best one, but at least we tried to make the most out of it.

It all started in Bermuda, approximately 1700 nautical miles away from our destination: the Azores. The parent port did us some good and gave us the opportunity to gain our energy back from the previous sail and to start this one on the right foot. The 59 students and 17 crew members were ready to raise sails and leave the harbour of Hamilton. After the last goodbyes to our family, the Gulden Leuuw was back on track and the students quickly came back to their old habits. The Atlantic Ocean didn’t leave us the privilege of doing half watches and due to rough seas, the rocking boat had to use every idle hand it could get. The waves were invading the breezeways and even reaching the very top of the bowsprit. Although they got to a maximum of eight meters, the Gulden Leuuw attained a top speed of twelve knots! For a training vessel that weighs more than four hundred and eighty-seven tons and is sailed by a bunch of teenagers, I would say that that is pretty impressive.

Half way through our sail, the sailing conditions just kept on getting worse and worse until a sudden wind change made the boat unexpectedly jibe. A few seconds later, a huge noise thundered threw the entire boat. I ran out of my bed to see what was going on. I soon saw that the main stay sail and one of the jibs were completely ripped. The captain came running up in the bridge and with his confidence, he first made sure that everybody was safe and sound. Then, he quickly analyzed the situation and turned on the engine so that everything could run smoothly again. We took down the two injured sails and sent them immediately to Jesse, our best sail’s repairman. Unfortunately, with the limited resources on board, we were unable to repair the damage done to the outer jib and the main stay sail. However, Jesse thought of a genius idea and proposed to set our spare storm jibe where the main stay sail previously lived. With only a few hands and couple of hours later, a new sail replaced our main stay sail and made us gain a couple of knots again. This made it another great day for the Gulden Leuuw and I could finally say that it felt good to be back at sea. The ocean state had become calmer, the winds were smoother and most importantly, the students and crew gained their strength back.

As a reward for our hard work, we had a day off after 12 days of school and full night watches. My tiredness had caught up to me and gave me no choice but to sleep during my full day off. Even if everybody had a day off, the boat continued to sail which forced some idle hands to help during squalls.

Then, a full week later, the look-out spotted land for the first time in eighteen days. It was at that moment that I reached my peak of excitement. The only thing I could think about was to go on shore and finally touch land again. I was craving a good pizza with a cold soda and a good mango gelato as a dessert. As I stepped off the boat, I first got what I was craving to satisfied my stomach. Then on the next day, a couple of friends and I went on another island to climb mount Pico which is the highest point in Portugal.

This volcano reaches a height of 2300 meters and even with my laziness, I successfully climbed the mountain in a couple of hours. It might sound really easy, but in reality, when we reached the top, my legs were killing me. The volcanic rocks were warming us up while a few meters away from me, a bit of snow laid on the ground. The sky over the clouds was a clear blue and it was the first time in my life that I could admire the nature without getting disturbed by anyone. Overall, even if the hike remained extremely difficult, the view certainly paid off and made it all worth it. The Azores did us some good by relaxing everybody and letting us start our next crossing on the right foot once again.

72 percent of the earth’s surface is covered in water. We don’t call it the blue planet for nothing. You can travel as much as you want but you will never be able to see all the beauty of this blue planet. Every time at sea is different. Every time is sensational. Every time is exceptional. Sailing the oceans is a lifelong project. Not only because it takes time but because you need to develop skills and abilities to do it.

For some people, sailing is the best feeling ever and for others it’s the worst. This perception is dependent on whether you spend your time puking because of the waves or you get the feeling of being gently rocked. My experience started 5 months ago, and it is easy to say that what I’m doing is clearly my best experience ever. The last 5 months passed way faster than I expected. Like I said, every time on the ocean is different. We just ended our sail from Dominican Republic to Havana, Cuba. A pleasantly sunny eight-day sail in the Caribbean, one of more to come. I have so much to talk about but let’s focus on the most important things.

Every time I come back on board after a port I feel like I am coming home. Yes my home is a boat. That might sound crazy but living with 60 other young people is incredible. It is fun to discover new things but being able to do it with a group of friends and sharing the experience makes it so much more fun. The sail between the Dominican Republic and Cuba was really something for every one. The 4 first days were like the others. We all had our regular schedules like usual: class, then watch, then free time, and finally night watch. Some people use their free time to read, other to study, and some use it as a nap time. I prefer to use this time to workout to spend energy and stay in shape with my friends Lukas, Vincent, Tristan and Seb.

The fifth day, we had visitors who changed and disrupted our schedule a little bit. My geography class was about to start when we heard a shout: WHALES PORT SIDE !!! There is nothing better than missing class to see marine life swimming alongside the boat. They were HUGE. It wasn’t the first time we’ve seen whales since the beginning of our worldwide voyage but it the first time they were that close. As they breached, one would like to the think they were smiling at us with their big docile eyes. Then they would dip back under, turning their bellies up, cajoling and playing. I took this picture of students staring in awe during supposed class time.

The following days were also really fun. We had sun every day and the weather was perfect. The size of the waves were also perfect because they were not big enough to make people sick but just enough to destabilize our feet. If you know me, you know what I like to do when it’s moving: go aloft with Lukas. We went up there for the sunset and to feel the waves from a different height. If you think about it, the higher you go, the more you feel the motion of the waves, which is really fun if you like adrenaline. For the following picture, people that are afraid of heights should not look.

The sail between Dominican Republic and Cuba was an incredible experience full of discovery and adrenaline. Nothing is better than traveling the world, learning about new things every day. Like my mom said, traveling makes people grow.

The Gulden Leuuw was gracefully leaving Hamilton harbour, slowly making her way into calm waters. The last tears and screams of our parents faded until they were another engraved memory in our minds. I left Bermuda refilled with energy and good vibes, thanks to my Mother’s visit whom I had missed a lot.

After the rough sail that we had from Cuba to Bermuda, I departed for the big journey (18 days of sailing until reaching the Azores) with a positive attitude. I could feel the good spirits of the student crew, even with this big challenge ahead of us. For the majority of us, we felt ready. We had 6 months of sailing background. We had sailed through the cold English Channel at the beginning. We had lived through our first big storm while getting to Morocco. We had crossed the South Atlantic a couple of months earlier. Finally, we had survived our passage through the famous Bermudan Triangle that has taken the life of so many sailors in the past. We also packed as many snacks as we could. Just to give you an idea, the bench where we put all our snacks broke because of the crazy amount of food that we, teenagers, packed!

As the first days of sailing passed, it was harder to focus in class and see the bright side of things. Adjusting to sea life always takes a few days. During this time, falling into negativity is sometimes so much easier and tempting because you are tired and soar. Between day watch, school, homework, and night watch, our days are long and our free time is short. When I get woken up at 5:40 every morning for watch, I usually tell myself: What would I do to be able to stay in bed, just one day? What would I do to sleep in a big comfy bed until I naturally wake up?

After this complaining part of my morning routine, I go up to the bridge deck. It is pitch black. I see the beautiful stars. We set one sail, or we take down one, and then the sky becomes brighter. The black becomes navy blue and then beams of light make their appearance. Splashes of pink, yellow and orange flourish in the sky. I eat my breakfast, drink my coffee and I suddenly say to myself how lucky I am to be here at seven o-clock in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean.

The sixth day of this long journey, I go up again for my morning watch and the size of the waves amazes me. The wind goes up to 40 knots! Waves are huge, even gigantic. The boat feels small, surrounded by this infinite, powerful amount of water. Waves splash everywhere on deck, giving unwanted salty showers to the crew.

Eating without spilling your plate everywhere, showering, or just standing up without falling becomes a daily life challenge. Your body is always adjusting itself to the constant heeling of the ship. Your muscles are never totally relaxed, which is exhausting for everybody. At the same time, it is also my favourite moment. I am tired but also thrilled by what I am doing. I have the impression of accomplishing something by being able to be a part of the work that makes us travel from one unknown place to another, to be able to work with others in order to master the power of the ocean.

Of course, school in rough weather is not the easiest thing as you can imagine. You cannot leave your pen on the table because it will fall and you will not find it again. Having a moving classroom isn’t really practical but, from the outside, it must seem quite funny.

In 10 days, I will be in the Azores. In only three months, this adventure will be over. The first 6 months went by fast, therefore I know that the last part will fly by. This is why I need to live to the fullest the bad as much as the good because this is a once in a lifetime experience that will define the adult I will become.

Even since I hopped aboard, I always wanted a ship’s pet. Imagine a boat dog or a boat cat wandering around. This wish was immediately wiped from my mind the second I spotted my first dolphin. That’s the thing about Class Afloat, we have a sea full of the world’s most amazing species. I can tell you that nothing shoots up the crew’s morale like a spontaneous visit from our aquatic friends (other than pizza night).

Aboard the Gulden Leeuw, class comes first… most of the time. Today is another beautiful day in the Caribbean, and only one thing could make it better. During my global geography class, we heard Joe yell, “Whales!” Everybody in class lurched from their seats, scrambled over the tables and over each other, and were at the aft deck in less than 10 seconds. This was incredibly impressive for such a large amount of people. It seems that the “no running on deck” rule gets overlooked for these events, or else the teachers would probably be in trouble too. The excitement in the air is enough to make anyone happy.

Imagine 60 people at the aft (the back) of the boat, all huddled together hopeful to spot a whale far off in the distance. Today, our sea friends were much more curious. With “ouuuuu’s” and “ahhhh’s” from the crowd, two whales surfaced not even 20 feet from the ship! We could see their colours and sleek shape so clearly. Just like dolphins, they swam gracefully and effortlessly in the waves. They would surface with a wave than dip down under the hull and reappear on the other side of the boat. Sometimes they’d pop their heads out of the water or swim upside down under water, exposing their white bellies. Nate, one of the AB’s, said that he even saw one jump enthusiastically out of the water and land on its back.

We pulled out a whale identification book and hurriedly started flipping through it. Seeing the whales so close by made it easy to say they were minke whales. I remember our old whale-educated AB, Sammy, say that minke whales smell terrible. Often, you can smell them before you see them. This time, the minkes smelled better than we did (just the guys, it’s girls shower day).

More minkes appeared and put on a show. It was like Sea World, except sustainable, not cruel and in the actual sea. So not at all like Sea World actually. I love how we are able to appreciate nature without disturbing it. Marine animals curiously approach our boat, we never alter course to chase them. When we sailed into the Dominican-Republic last week, it was sperm whale mating season. Impressive whales appeared throughout the day causing excitement and happy smiles aboard. What wasn’t as great to watch were the small whale watching boats overflowing with tourists. They would constantly try and follow the whales as closely as possible, disrupting their elegant peace. Imagine if you were trying to mate and a boat full of tourists followed the entire time revving a loud motor. Privacy is key. It’s important to observe and not disturb. We have already done enough damage to their homes; the least we can do is be responsible visitors.

Sorry about that tangent, back to the minkes. After the best 45-minute performance, students started trickling back into class. Our new friends continued to be curious about the metal-bellied mamma whale we call home. They stayed for a large part of the afternoon; riding the waves and playing hide and seek. What a beautiful day at sea.

During our many journeys in the Atlantic, we’ve seen countless Common Dolphins, Spinner Dolphins, Bottlenose Dolphins, Sperm Whales, Fin Whales, Pilot Whales, Minke Whales, jellyfish, turtles and more. For every visit, we drop what we’re doing (unless it’s an important sail maneuver), huddle together, and appreciate how lucky we are. We value experiential learning, and observing amazing marine organisms definitely classifies as such. Today’s events were added to my long list of amazing Class Afloat moments. The list just seems to get longer and longer.

Class Afloat provides students with various opportunities and tools to experience the ocean first-hand and as up close and personal as possible. Climbing aloft and venturing out into the bowsprit to work with sails and to do maintenance, as well as relaxing during our free time are some of the amazing ways we get to experience the wonders of the ocean.

Although somewhat daunting at first, many students love the feeling of being suspended above the water or standing 40m above deck looking out at the never-ending blue. Some of our crew prefer being up aloft, but for others, the bowsprit is the perfect spot.

The bowsprit is the forward most appendage of the Gulden Leeuw, very noticeable when admiring our Dutch home. It is where the three jib sails lay on the j’boom — the large metal rod that protrudes from the bow of the ship. It is surrounded by netting which allows the student and maritime crew to work with the three head sails. In addition, it provides a comfortable place to lay and stare at the infinite beauty that continuously surrounds us, something that many students enjoy during their spare time.

Afraid of heights? That’s not an issue! Climbing and working aloft is not a must on Class Afloat; no one is ever forced to go. The bowsprit is an awesome alternative for those who want to see more of the ocean while remaining level with the deck. There’s a certain rush as you drop down with the swells and feel the mist lightly brush over your skin as you do so. The sensation of being weightless as the ocean carries you to your next spectacular destination is something that everyone should experience. The undulating motion of the ocean rocking you back and forth is a calming movement that lulls you to sleep as the warm sun basks over you.

The bowsprit is the perfect place for lovers of marine life, whether you’re out there for watch or for your own pleasure; the sights are something to behold. The first time I ever went out on the bowsprit we saw a pod of dolphins as soon as we stepped into the netting. We watched the pod of common dolphins play in the wake of the bow for over two hours! It was an unreal and stunning experience that not very many people get the chance to encounter. They are truly majestic creatures whose ability to move effortlessly through the sea is simply an unbelievable sight.

Class Afloat provides their students with opportunities and resources to experience marine life in a very personal way simply by living aboard the Gulden Leeuw. It also presents us with the tools we need to explore our interests in the ocean by offering an oceanography course for high school students alongside a marine biology course for university students. By allowing us to venture out into the bowsprit during our free time or during these class times, Class Afloat students have a unique, hands-on opportunity to observe what others may ever only see via documentaries. The ability to admire the ocean which we are proud to call our home every moment of everyday is heightened when taking the time to venture out into the netting of the bowsprit.

Taking the time out of one’s day to sprawl out in the bowsprit is one hundred percent worth it. It is a relaxing place where you can be alone with your thoughts or chatting with your friends as your reality drifts away and melds with the endless ocean. The day before arriving in the Dominican Republic, myself along with a few other students hurried out to watch the sunset behind a Caribbean island whose name we did not know. Sitting with those who share such deep admiration in the serenity of such quiet moments reminds you of what truly matters in life, a deep sense of connection through these beautiful experiences. Every day, I look forward to the next moment.

We departed from Cuba with a beautiful sunset of different tones of pink and yellow. We could still see the shape of the city of Havana getting smaller and smaller as we initiated our last sail before the crossing of the North Atlantic Ocean. Ten days can seem to take forever when you have class every day, but we were all very excited to discover if the mystery about the Bermuda triangle was just a myth or not.

We were indeed very feverish about the first squall at the beginning of this voyage. It started with a breeze taking more strength every hour. The next morning, the wind was like a knife cutting through our summer clothes, reaching for our bodies. I started to feel sea sick again with the motion of the boat increasing in intensity. The only place where I felt good was outside, so I bundled myself in my foulie coat and trousers and passed my free time on the deck. The enormous waves were striking every half minute and I then realized that we have really improved our sailing skills. As a trainee, sometimes you don’t know at all what you are doing on the ship. However, with the knowledge we acquired during the first semester and the dedication most of the students put in their watch, we now have a remarkable background of experience. That was the first time I truly realized we were not trainees anymore, but sailors!

I was reflecting on that while I heard a tumult of voices coming from the Bridge Deck. I made my way as fast as possible up the stairs to see what the cause of that cacophony was. A group of three or four whales were leaping out of the water, giving us an extraordinary view of their whole body. It was the first time I saw a whale jump completely out of the water. They were making their way out of the ocean before they fell back as quickly as they came up. You could hear the gasp of the amazed students when it hit the water. It’s crazy how whale and dolphins can brighten up your day when you are living at sea, even for a fraction of a second.

After a couple of days, we got out of the storm with only two ripped sails and some trainees rustled by sea sickness. Even if it can be mentally challenging to navigate through a squall, I think that’s when you learn the most.

When the sun came back from its hiding place and the wind was more indulgent, some students took out their fishing gear. We caught more fish during this sail than we did through the whole first semester. Joe, one of the students and the Gulden Leeuw’s fishing expert, caught several Mahi-Mahis. One afternoon, I was passing through the breezeway during my watch when I saw a considerable amount of blood staining the beige paint of the deck. Fear pounded through my veins. What had happened? Was anyone badly injured? To my relief, I discerned it was coming from the beast lying on the floor. A forty pound Mahi-Mahi had been extracted from the water after an intense fight. The monster had bright green and blue scales and an enormous forehead. The next day we had the best fish tacos I have ever had. The fish was fresh and the only seasoning, lemon juice, added the perfect amount of acidity to the meal.

That night, some trainees and crew members had the chance to see the takeoff of a rocket. It was only a bright light making its way through the dark sky, but the idea of it was really impressive. One of the best parts about living on a boat is the astonishing number of stars that stud the sky.

This voyage from Cuba to Bermuda was an amazing experience. Not only because we had cookies every night made by the baking club, but because it entirely changed my perspective of sailing and of myself.