Changing Plans : Ponte Delgada Deferred

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient.”

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

Wind Surf Transatlantic Sailing Day 11

 

As we were told yesterday, nature and fate have once again intervened. For the second year in a row aboard Wind Surf, the bridge made the decision to forgo our scheduled port of call. Last year, storms redirected us toward Gran Canaria, though we were not permitted to disembark, and then ultimately carried us on to Cádiz rather than Lisbon. This year, we actually reached the Azores. Ponta Delgada was no longer an abstract point on the itinerary or a hoped-for stop in the middle of the Atlantic. It was close, real, and full of possibility: volcanic landscapes, exciting birding, a chance to walk on land, and the satisfaction of finally reaching the port we had missed before.

 

And yet we sailed on.

 

Such are the realities of travelling by sea. The decision was disappointing, but not difficult to understand. Weather, wind, harbour conditions, and safety matter more than expectations. We were grateful for another beautiful sea day, even as some part of us looked toward the islands and wondered when we would finally set foot there.

 

Another sea day gave us something else: an opportunity to pause in the voyage before continuing onward. It feels as though I should have some great insight by now, some clear revelation produced by salt air, days at sea, and time. But the truth is both more complex and less satisfying than that.   

 

While I don’t have an answer or many of our challenges, I am nonetheless very grateful that much of the “stuff” - the worries, anxieties, pressures, and irritations that dominated my thoughts in the months before we left - has fallen into the background. Not vanished. Not solved. But gone quieter. That alone has been a welcome change, allowing both of us the opportunity to relax and enjoy.

 

Morning on Board

 

This morning was less about a blazing sunrise and more about a sky filled with subtle shades of pink and orange. Through the porthole, the waves looked like small mountains, many of them wearing what I can only think of as Poseidon’s manes: white spray whipped backwards by the wind into wild plumes.

 

We both slept a little later and were not out on deck until around seven. Compared with yesterday, the winds had calmed somewhat, though there was still a cold edge to them, and the whitecaps around us had settled a little. During the night, the engines had seemed quiet, at least by sound, and the sails had remained up. The result was a peaceful kind of motion throughout the evening.

 

When the sun finally rose, it was directly ahead of us. We were clearly running due east now, toward Europe. The sunrise light glowed down the length of Wind Surf’s teak decking, one of those shipboard sights that never seems to lose its beauty. The Azores were now behind us, or nearly so, and our final days at sea had begun.

 

Just after seven thirty, a pigeon or gull-like bird flew off the ship and into the sunrise. It was definitely not a pelagic seabird, which made the sighting significant. We were beginning to pick up land and shore birds again, another small indicator that land was near, even if we would not step onto it.

 

Throughout the morning, a number of cargo and LNG ships passed westward. According to one bridge officer, some had left from south of Lisbon, near the region we had walked through after last year’s crossing, and once they passed the Azores, their full transatlantic voyage truly began. As we moved into the final approach of our own crossing, others were just setting out. That is the nature of these things. One adventure begins as another approaches its end.

 

Anxiety and Perspective

 

Given the beauty of the day, speculation began to run wild around the ship about the “real reason” we had not stopped in Ponta Delgada. Dissatisfaction was high among some passengers. Yet it really was windy, and it was not difficult to imagine docking being complicated, especially on a ship with the particular profile and handling realities of Wind Surf.

There was some irony in the fact that we had spent the previous days debating whether to book an excursion, and if so, which one. Volcano hike? Pineapple plantation? Sete Cidades? A scenic drive? By morning, having sailed past Ponta Delgada, the simple reality of the matter had once again been revealed: worry is often useless. Things play out regardless. Plans collapse, conditions change, and all the mental energy spent borrowing trouble from tomorrow or obsessing about yesterday rarely alters the outcome.

 

That too is easier said than lived.

 

The cold wind felt as though the world was beginning to creep back up on us. A few people on board had already turned their attention toward onward travel, homeward logistics, and what they would do in Lisbon. We tried to remain in the moment, but despite my efforts, my mind knew we were now homeward bound. My stomach began to hurt again, and I felt the faintest murmur of chest pain returning. In simpler terms, I had begun to worry about what came next.

 

It was disappointing to notice, but also useful. The voyage had not cured anxiety. It had created space around it. Now, as land drew nearer, the old pressures began to test the edges of that space

 

Relaxing Aft

 

For the third day in a row, the sails were still fully extended. Since we had turned more southward, they were angled slightly across the decks, and the morning light cast shadows from the masts and rigging across the canvas. The patterns were so beautiful that it was impossible not to stop and admire them.

 

Having slept beyond the main breakfast hour, we settled at the aft of the ship around 9:30 with pastries from the Yacht Club, the ship’s coffee and snack venue. I cannot claim it was the healthiest way to begin the day, but it was definitely satisfying. Sitting with my feet up, watching the water slide past while Sean brought snacks, felt like exactly the kind of small pleasure we had come to sea to remember. Sometimes we all need mornings like that.

 

The strong winds and cooler temperatures meant there were fewer visible birds and whales, though “visible” is always the important caveat at sea. Life may be everywhere and still remain beyond our reach.

 

I initially thought the sea state was too high for an ORCA cetacean survey, but as we stood at the railing after breakfast, we spotted a strong whale blow near the horizon. In total, there were three exhalations, each tall and narrow. My best guess would be that a Blue or Fin Whale was out there, but the animal remained too distant to identify.

 

Encouraged, I gave the survey a try and spent another half hour happily stretched out on a deck chair at the back of the ship, watching the horizon for signs of life. Seabirds circled, though none came close enough to the ship to identify confidently among the swells and whitecaps. We did see one additional whale blow, but again, nothing surfaced clearly enough for us to know what we had seen.

 

Our nature observations that morning were dominated by shearwaters. They are beautiful and maddening birds to identify: long-winged, oceanic, subtle, and similar enough that even photographs submitted to iNaturalist are often reclassified simply as “large shearwaters.” At sea, certainty can be hard won.

 

Line Dancing, Bird Watching, and Scavenger Hunts

 

Because today had originally been a port day, there was a flurry of creativity, adding activities and talks on board. The revised schedule looked full and fun. Given the chill outside, we stepped into the Lounge to wait for the ship-wide scavenger hunt. When we arrived, Nikki was teaching a small but enthusiastic group of passengers to line dance in preparation for the evening’s BBQ and crew line dance, and the energy in the room was cheerful and infectious.

 

While we were there, another birder whom I've been speaking to every day stopped by to share some info on seabirds.  Apparently, the Azores represent 80% of the breeding range of quite a few different seabirds, and there are around half a dozen species that are endemic to this chain of islands, including the Monteiro’s Storm Petrel, which may be one of the species we've been seeing. She also shared an interesting video on nesting Cory's Shearwaters.  I really enjoy meeting fellow birders on ships - they are so nice, and it is always fun to share observations at watch the horizon for movement with little need for explanation.

At eleven, Nikki began the ship-wide scavenger hunt. She had hidden small laminated signs around the ship, each containing a letter and a clue leading to the next location. Once all twelve clues were found, participants would have all the letters needed to unscramble a nautical term.

 

The hunt itself was a lot of fun. It sent us through familiar spaces with a new kind of attention, looking at corners, doors, signs, and passageways we had walked past many times without inspecting closely. In the end, I could not unscramble the letters, mostly because I had never heard the word I was trying to form. Ultimately, the answer was “baleartic winch.”

 

Nonetheless, I was rewarded with a bag of Windstar-branded goodies for participating, including a fridge magnet, a coveted collapsible water bottle, a luggage tag, and a laser pointer keychain. It was a surprisingly generous prize for someone who had failed the final word puzzle.

Noon Announcement and Macaronesia

 

When the scavenger hunt ended, we received the captain’s noon announcement. Wind Surf had now sailed 2,420 nautical miles since leaving Sint Maarten, with only 667 nautical miles remaining before Lisbon. We were travelling under sail at 11.5 knots over water 3,000 metres deep. The wind speed in Ponta Delgada was currently 35 knots, confirming that docking would have been difficult, or at the very least unsafe, as predicted.

 

 

The captain also mentioned that the region we were passing through belongs to Macaronesia, a biogeographical region made up of Atlantic archipelagos including the Azores, Madeira, the Canary Islands, and Cape Verde. Some definitions also include the Savage Islands. These island groups share volcanic origins and distinctive ecological patterns shaped by isolation, oceanic climate, and long-distance dispersal.

I loved the idea that by sailing past the Azores, we had entered a wider island world rather than simply missing a port. Last year, the weather carried us to the Canary Islands and then Cádiz. This year, we passed the Azores without landing. Madeira and Cape Verde remained farther off, connected not by our itinerary but by geography, ecology, and ocean geology.

 

Macaronesia means, in one tradition, the “fortunate islands,” and even deferred, even unseen from the deck, the name seemed appropriate. These volcanic islands rise from the Atlantic as stepping stones of life, culture, and migration between continents.

 

Beyond this, the fun fact of the day concerned the Panama Canal. Apparently, though most modern cruise ships can now pass through the newer, wider canal, yet Wind Surf cannot because her masts are 67.5 metres tall and the Bridge of the Americas has a clearance of only 61 metres. I suspect tides and specific conditions may complicate this, since Queen Mary 2 recently made her first Panama Canal transit despite being taller still. Regardless, it is astonishing to think that Wind Surf is nearly as tall as the world’s last ocean liner.

 

When we headed up to lunch in Veranda, we were welcomed to “Asia” by the staff and discovered that the buffet featured Thai, Vietnamese, and Filipino dishes. As usual, I chose a selection of salads while Sean assembled a plate of crackers and cheese. It was delicious, and another reminder of how shipboard days can lead to new experiences. As usual, it was delicious.

 

Hot Tubs and Whale Watching

 

After lunch, we stood by the rails for a bit, watching the sea and looking for signs of life. The water was a deep blue with many long, foamy streaks of white that erupted into plumes of spray.  The swells had been building all day, and by this point were rolling the ship from side to side quite significantly.  It was very beautiful though, with the bright white sunlight sparkling on the moving, shifting waves.

Sean decided to take advantage of the sunshine by taking a dip in the hot tub. It was beautiful on the back deck, looking up at the sails against the blue sky, and he thoroughly enjoyed the warmth.  Getting out of the nice hot water into the brisk, chilly wind was another matter, and one of the main reasons I had decided not to join him.

 

Though I think the bar staff enjoyed watching him shiver despite the bravado he tried to put on as he dried off and desperately tried to warm up.

 

Enrichment and Antarctic Exploration

 

At two, we went into the Lounge for Wayne White’s talk on Antarctic exploration history. As always, it was well done and designed to honour those who came before modern explorers, especially those who reached toward the South Pole before research stations, high-tech clothing, and modern safety systems existed.

 

He spoke in particular about the Belgica expedition of 1897–1899, the first expedition of what became known as the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. Though it did not reach the South Pole, the Belgica became the first expedition to overwinter in Antarctica, unintentionally and without proper preparation. Among those on board were Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian first officer, and Dr. Frederick Cook, the ship’s doctor.

 

From there, Wayne moved into the dramatic and difficult race for the South Pole between Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott. Their contrasting strategies, decisions, preparations, and outcomes remain among the most famous stories in exploration history. Amundsen and his team reached the pole on December 14, 1911 and returned safely. Scott’s British expedition arrived more than a month later, on January 17, 1912, and did not survive the return.

 

It was a complicated story of bravery, rivalry, planning, hardship, and consequence. Listening to it aboard Wind Surf, while the sea rolled outside and our own missed port was still fresh in everyone’s mind, I was reminded again that exploration has always been shaped by conditions and the willingness to adapt. Romantic stories often celebrate boldness, but survival usually depends on humility.

 

Dolphin Sightings and Bird Watching

 

When we left the talk, one of the crew members excitedly showed us a video on her phone of a group of dolphins that had been bow riding beside the ship.  From her footage, they looked like Common Dolphins, with the white and yellow clearly visible on their flanks when they breached.  This was very exciting news!  We were outside in the hopes of spotting something ourselves, and while no dolphins or whales appeared, a Loggerhead Sea Turtle paddled past a few meters from the ship.  We also spotted two new species of seabirds (we think)!

 

At 4:00 PM, Sean went inside to listen to the bridge crew's talk on the History of the Cruise Industry.  It sounded interesting, but I decided to stay outside and keep a lookout for more turtles or dolphins. 

Sadly, the mass of cloud that has been pursuing the ship since this morning finally caught up with it. As the sun slipped behind the clouds, the afternoon took on a further chill, and it was easy to see why tonight's signature BBQ event would once again be held indoors.

 

History of the Cruise Industry and Trivia

 

Opting to stay outside, Sean went to the lounge and reported that the bridge crew presentation on the history of the cruise industry was very interesting. It was given by the First Officer, who traced the evolution from ocean liners and early leisure cruising to the rise of modern cruise brands.

 

The talk included the story of Canadian Pacific’s Empress of Canada, which became Carnival’s Mardi Gras, the company’s first ship, and famously ran aground near Miami early in her new career. He also discussed Carnival’s early gamble of selling affordable fares and then earning onboard revenue through extras, a strategy that helped shape mass-market cruising. Royal Viking appeared as an early luxury line, while Windstar Cruises emerged in 1986 with sailing vessels that offered a very different vision of life at sea.

 

The history of Wind Surf herself also appeared in this larger story. Originally built as Club Med I, she became part of Windstar’s fleet, while her sister ship Club Med II represents the vessel that, in another imagined future, might have been known as Wind Saga. The talk also touched on the transformation of SS France into SS Norway, an ocean liner converted into what was then the world’s largest cruise ship, helping launch the industry’s later race toward ever-larger vessels.

 

One of the most interesting points concerned Project Phoenix, an unrealized cruise ship concept that envisioned something like floating apartment blocks with public spaces, cafés, and theatres. At the time, it was considered too large. Today, compared with ships like Icon of the Seas and even larger vessels now under construction, it sounds almost modest.

 

After this talk, there was trivia hosted by Nikki based on the cruise industry presentation. Our results were respectable, though not as good as they perhaps should have been, given that Sean had just listened to the presentation. I joined partway through, which may or may not have helped.

 

Indoor BBQ in Amphora

 

By seven, we headed to Amphora for the BBQ, which had again been moved indoors because of high winds. As before, the array of food was wonderful: salads, tofu kebabs, potato salad, breads, desserts, and all the generous abundance Windstar does so well.

 

Still, it was not quite the same as having the event outside beneath the sails and sky. The indoor version was tasty and carefully prepared, but the room felt crowded and rushed as the staff worked to seat everyone in a smaller space. 

It was another reminder that even aboard a beautifully run ship, we live at the behest of weather conditions. Nature had already taken the Azores from the itinerary. Now it had moved the BBQ indoors.

 

That, too, is part of the reality of travel by sea.

 

Evening of Trivia and Music

 

The evening continued with the White Night Party and Pure Soul Trio in the Lounge.  They played popular songs from the past.  

There was lots of excitement and dancing – including some members of the crew who took the opportunity to dance and relax.

 

This was followed by a brief round of British Invasion Music Trivia with Nikki before most people went upstairs to Compass Rose, where Elaine Eagle was playing and singing into the night.

 

It became another evening of moving through the ship from music to music and venue to venue.

 

Time and the Art of Letting Go

 

One of the things I love about transatlantic voyages, especially aboard Wind Surf, is that they give people time. Not just time to be entertained, or fed, or carried from one place to another, but time to remember what peacefulness feels like.

 

A crossing is long enough for the restlessness to burn off. Long enough for missed emails to stop feeling urgent.  Long enough for the body to begin sleeping again. Long enough for the mind to quiet.

 

Letting go is not as simple as dropping something into the ocean.  It is a process of slowly loosening your grip on …everything.  The mind stops rehearsing old grievances as often. The body unclenches. The future remains uncertain, but it no longer occupies every corner of thought.

 

Perhaps that is what this voyage has been giving us – enough time to be able to let go and relax.

 

See you on board!

 

Nautical Term of the Day – Running before the Wind - Sailing with the wind behind.