Final Sea Day and Crew Talent Show

"You can’t control the wind,

but you can adjust your sails.”

 

Sailor’s Wisdom

 

Wind Surf Transatlantic Sailing Day 13

Voyage of Restoration

 

It seems to me that on these calm, quiet transatlantic voyages, almost everyone settles in by the end. People seem happier, healthier, and somehow more themselves. Those who appeared to have difficulty moving about when they first stepped on board now stroll the decks with greater ease. Older guests who arrived hunched over or dependent on walking sticks and canes seem to stand a little straighter.

 

Faces that looked pale, exhausted, or pinched with worry two weeks ago now have colour in them. There are more smiles, more conversations, and more connections. People who seemed glued to their phones at the beginning of the voyage now sit quietly at the aft of the ship watching the sea, without apparent pressure to be doing anything else or rushing anywhere other than exactly where they are.

 

I do believe this ship, those who sail aboard her, and time at sea have healing powers. Not magical powers, exactly, and not the kind that erase real-world problems. But there is something profoundly restorative about being removed from the constant demands of land life and placed inside a routine governed by meals, wind, music, and the sea. These are the kinds of moments everyone needs from time to time.

 

It would seem that passengers are not the only ones restored during a repositioning voyage. As we have crossed the Atlantic, Wind Surf herself has been cleaned, refined, sanded, polished, painted, and prepared. Walking around the decks, the sustained efforts of the crew over the past two weeks are now clearly visible. The teak looks thoroughly scrubbed. Brass fittings and instruments shine. Windows gleam. Varnished railings have been repaired or replaced. Slowly, while we have been resting and watching the sea, the ship has also been made ready for her summer season in the Mediterranean.

 

There is something lovely in that parallel. We came aboard needing repair in ways less visible than wood or brass. The ship crossed with us, receiving care as she carried us. By the time Lisbon neared, both passengers and vessel seemed a little more polished by salt, wind, labour, and time.

 

Biodiversity at Sea

 

This morning was stunning. When I opened the curtains, the sea was rolling in long, lazy swells, and its surface was glassy smooth, reflecting the soft, pale pink, gold, and blue of the sky.  Outside, the decks were wet and shining, reflecting the early light, while the deep blue water below mirrored it back. The sky was mostly clear, with only occasional clouds overhead, and a gentle breeze moving across the ship.

 

All the sails were up, pulled tight in a line parallel with Wind Surf, and the whole morning felt incredibly serene. We were clearly travelling more slowly now, averaging closer to nine or ten knots rather than the fourteen or fifteen knots we had sometimes made earlier. Even at sunrise, there were more passengers on deck than usual, walking and enjoying the moment. Perhaps everyone sensed that this was the final full sea day and that these hours had to be held onto.

 

During our first walk around the deck, we spotted two sets of dolphins beside the bridge. It felt like a wonderful beginning.

 

Then, as we continued circling the ship and soaking in the morning, I noticed that the water was full of tiny brown creatures. At first, I could not work out what they were. They drifted past in astonishing numbers, small and active, often in pairs, scrabbling at one another with their front legs. Eventually, we realized they were crabs - thousands of them.

 

Later, we identified them as Henslow’s Swimming Crabs, small crustaceans that live in the water column and can gather in huge swarms. They were reddish-brown, tiny from our height above the water, and astonishing in their abundance. Apparently, they have adapted for swimming rather than merely walking along the seabed.  Their legs are flattened and fringed with hairs, allowing them to move efficiently in the water column. They can form large surface shoals and are known as important prey for gulls and other marine predators.

 

After days of searching for whales, dolphins, seabirds, turtles, and flying fish, it was a reminder that life at sea does not always arrive in grand charismatic forms. Sometimes it floats by the thousands in small, vigorous bodies most people would never notice.

 

Textures of the Sea

 

One of the things I find most fascinating about the ocean is how difficult it is to describe. You would not think a liquid could have texture, but the sea certainly does. This morning, it began as a glassy, smooth, mirror-like surface. Then a slight breeze rose, at first brushing only the tops of the swells. Suddenly, bands appeared: smooth light blue in the troughs and darker, lightly rippled blue along the crests.

 

Then the wind shifted again. The sea looked woven, then braided, then patterned with diamonds, then triangles. No two moments were the same. The surface changed so quickly that by the time the mind found a comparison, the water had already become something else.

 

Colour is even harder. The sea has thousands of colours to go with its many textures, most of which we do not have names for. Blue, green, grey, and brown are far too blunt to capture the subtle, shifting, layered tones that surrounded us this morning. There were reflected colours, shadow colours, sky colours, light-through-water colours, and colours that seemed to exist only because wind and sun had briefly agreed on a shape.

 

It is something to be experienced more than described. Or perhaps felt more than explained.

 

Breakfast and Whale Surveys

 

We stepped into Veranda for breakfast, and this time I chose to have yogurt, cereal, fruit and a muffin with my coffee, just to switch things up a little.  We didn't linger too long over breakfast, although it was delicious as always.  We were simply eager to get back to watching the sea.

And so, soon after we began our daily ORCA survey, and during the first hour, we spotted three whale blows and two different groups of dolphins!  The whales were all off near the horizon, but they had very tall, strong, straight blows, and we could tell that one blew, then gave a long roll of its back, then showed its dorsal fin (but no flukes) before diving.  Likely it was a group of Fin Whales!

During the survey, we also spotted another Loggerhead Sea Turtle.  On this animal, each individual scute looked strongly humped, not like the smooth-shelled ones we'd spotted over the past two days. However, iNaturalist suggests this may simply have been a younger individual.  Either way, it was very exciting!

Final Trivia at Sea

 

Sean went inside for trivia at eleven, but I decided to stay outside and enjoy the beauty of the morning. I continued the cetacean survey, though the whale and dolphin activity seemed to fade as the morning pushed on. It reminded me of forest bird surveys, where dawn and dusk can be full of song and movement, while late morning and afternoon fall quieter.

 

With marine life, that comparison does not make perfect sense. Whales and dolphins need to surface to breathe regardless of the time of day or weather. Yet from the deck, activity still seemed to come and go in patterns we did not fully understand. Another ocean mystery to figure out at one point.  

 

Captain's Noon Update

 

When Sean came back out after trivia, he spotted a Northern Gannet off the back of the ship.  As we were looking at the beautiful white and black bird, three whales spouted just beyond it!  The whale even breached, but it was too far away by that point to make out the details apart from a large splash.  How exciting is that!  In the same frame of view was a large tanker ship, the first of the day.

At noon, the captain's announcement informed us that we were travelling at a speed of 9.3 knots over the ocean, which is 4,800 m - deeper than in the previous days.  Since leaving Sint Maarten, Wind Surf has sailed 2,905 nautical miles and now has only 170 nautical miles left to reach Lisbon, Portugal.

The fun fact of the day concerned tides. Ocean tides do more than raise and lower sea levels; they also affect Earth’s rotation. The tidal bulge created by the moon exerts a braking effect, gradually slowing the planet’s rotation and lengthening days by tiny increments over time. I loved receiving that fact on the final sea day. Even time itself, which has felt so slippery throughout this crossing, is shaped by the sea and the moon.

 

Rest, Relaxation and Marine Life

It was such a beautiful day that we did not want to go up to the buffet for lunch. Instead, we stayed at the back of the ship near the pool and hot tubs, watching the waters around us for whales and dolphins. Sean very kindly brought me a plate of cookies and chocolate cake to tide me over, which made me feel thoroughly spoiled.

 

Not long after, a second sea turtle passed by, larger than the earlier one and with a very spiky-looking shell.

 

Next, a large pod of dolphins swam past, more than fifteen animals leaping and playing in what looked like a mixed pod of different species.

 

Then, as one o’clock approached, a line of shorebirds flew past low over the water - large, brown above and pale below, disappearing periodically behind the swells. There were around forty-five of them, likely Eurasian Curlews.

 

The nearer we drew to land, the more signs of transition appeared. Turtles, dolphins, gannets, shorebirds, airplanes overhead, and ships around us all suggested that the open-ocean portion of the voyage was coming to a close. The Atlantic was still vast, but Europe was beginning to make itself known.

 

Ship Construction Competition

 

From one until around two-thirty, the ship construction competition took place at the aft pool. The challenge was to build a vessel using items found around Wind Surf, with the goal of creating something that could float and carry six cans of soda. Five teams competed, and the captain, hotel manager, and engineer served as judges.

 

A surprisingly large crowd of passengers and crew gathered to watch, which gave the whole event a wonderfully festive atmosphere.

Because the ship itself was rocking, one of the crew members had to move the models around the pool, adding an extra layer of chaos to the experiment.

 

One by one, each improvised vessel was lowered into the water to see whether it could float. Once it survived that first test, cans of soda were carefully loaded on board before the boat was propelled across the pool. There was applause, laughter, and a fair amount of suspense as each creation wobbled, drifted, listed, or somehow managed to stay upright.

 

After the boats had passed their initial challenge, the captain suggested making the experiment more interesting by adding more weight to see how much each vessel could carry before tipping, sinking, or otherwise giving way. At that point, the whole thing became even more entertaining.

 

The captain and bridge officers seemed to take almost childlike delight in the process, crouching over the pool, watching the boats intently, and encouraging each new test as though they were running a very serious maritime trial.

 

I watched with a rum and hot chocolate in hand, which felt like an appropriate beverage for a final sea day: warm, indulgent, slightly ridiculous, and very shipboard.

The competition was silly, inventive, and surprisingly absorbing. After nearly two weeks at sea, watching people cheer for improvised boats carrying soda cans seemed exactly right.

 

Birds at Compass Rose

 

After the excitement of the boating competition, we sat outside of Compass Rose, relaxing.  Then suddenly - a swallow flew past.  It was dark above, with a split tail, and its sudden appearance caused immediate delight. In Portugal, swallows are often associated with good luck, fidelity, spring, and returning home, which is why ceramic swallows are hung on houses.

 

Soon afterward, a sparrow landed on the railings of the flying bridge. Fifteen minutes later, two more swallows passed through. Then another sparrow appeared on the ship. The arrival of land birds was yet another sure sign that we were nearing the end of the voyage.

 

Beyond these birds, above us, contrails marked the sky. We were now under Lisbon’s flight path. Ahead and behind us were cargo ships, tankers, and container vessels, each indicating that we had entered Lisbon’s wider shipping lanes. After days of open seas, these symbols of modernity and speed began to gather around us: airplanes overhead, commercial traffic on the horizon, land birds using the ship as a temporary resting place.

 

They were all prefaces to our return.

 

Amid this, we saw two more whales, likely Fin Whales, though another passenger thought they might be Humpbacks. Soon afterward, the captain announced that dolphins were bow-riding on the port side. They turned out to be Striped Dolphins, and instead of heading indoors, we stayed at Compass Rose, continuing to watch the water. Around 4:15, two more whales breached with large V-shaped blows, and behind them came another large pod of dolphins.

 

By then, I had been joined by several other passengers with binoculars, all watching from the port side. The final sea day had become a gathering at the railings to share the moment.

 

Gorringe Ridge

 

One possible reason for the abundance of marine life was that we were passing north of the Gorringe Ridge on our approach to Lisbon. This underwater ridge rises from the deep northeast Atlantic, southwest of Portugal and forms an important feature in the surrounding oceanography. Where the seafloor rises, currents, nutrients, and water movement can create richer feeding conditions than in the surrounding deep ocean.  This happens in other regions around the world, such as the Grand Banks off the coast of Newfoundland.

That may help explain why we saw so much life today. Whales, dolphins, turtles, fish, crabs, and seabirds often concentrate where physical features shape the movement of nutrients and prey. To us, from the surface, it looked like open water.

 

Evening at Sea

 

Unfortunately, as happens too often on board, the day seemed to race past. 

 

Sunset brought a stunning display of gold before the sky transformed into streaks of pink and fading blue. We stayed outside for another half hour rather than going in for the talk. It was too beautiful to leave.

 

Eventually, we went down to freshen up before the evening’s crew show, taking showers and putting away our laundry. From six to seven, we had dinner in Amphora: market salad and a broccoli, beetroot, and goat cheese tart.

 

Afterward, we returned to Compass Rose for a Guinness and a glass of wine. 

Crew Talent Show

 

It was incredibly peaceful outside, though also quite cold, and before long, we retreated indoors to the Lounge, where Pure Soul Trio were warming up the passenger audience before Windstar’s signature Crew Talent Show.

The Crew Talent Show began with Nikki as MC, and it is one of the most joyful events of the voyage.  Last year's crew talent show on Wind Surf's spring transatlantic voyage was one of our favourite evenings on board.  

The crew aboard Wind Surf represents a wide range of nationalities, though the Philippines and Indonesia were especially well represented, and the performances reflected that cultural richness through traditional songs, dances, humour, music, and sheer courage.

 

The talent was remarkable. Assistant Chef Emil sang “Eye of the Tiger.”

 

Selu offered an Indonesian dance.

 

Erlan from the dining team played guitar.

 

The Destinations Manager, Joanna sang opera.

 

Members of the engine room performed a hilarious dance routine with painted stomachs.

 

The crew performed a traditional Filipino dance using intricate hand and foot movements.

 

Laily from Compass Rose sang “Will You Remember.”

 

Faisal from the dining team sang Johnny Cash.

And the Wind Surf Synchronized Swimmers brought the room to laughter.

 

What struck me most was not only the talent, though there was plenty of it. It was the joy. These are people who work incredibly long hours, often far from home for months at a time, and yet they gave the passengers an evening full of energy, humour, and generosity. It was an incredible gift from them to everyone on board.  Hopefully, our images and videos of the show can serve as a little bit of thanks back to them as well for all they share with every passenger.

 

After the show, we returned to Compass Rose, only to discover that the outside air had grown dramatically cooler. We stayed for about an hour anyway, enjoying Elaine Eagle’s piano playing and singing before finally heading to bed.

 

We knew we would have to be up very early. Landfall was coming. Another voyage was nearly behind us.

 

Night of Final Sea Day

Today was one of our longest and best days at sea on board Wind Surf.   From an abundance of whales, dolphins, and sea turtles to ship competitions and the amazing Crew Talent Show, this was a very full and wonderful sea day.  

Tomorrow, very early, we make landfall again.  Indeed, the lights of Lisbon are already on the horizon. Another voyage has passed.

 

I still do not know exactly what to do or what to think about what comes next. I have felt so happy and relaxed on this trip, so peaceful and alive, and yet I worry that my thoughts will become loud again when we return to land. I worry that my anxieties will overwhelm me, that I will become paralyzed by the decisions waiting for us, and that the demands of our future will rush back in before I have fully come to terms with things.

 

I wonder what my mind and body can handle when we are back on land.

 

Has our time on Wind Surf given way to an answer? I do not know. Do I have more clarity, more perspective? I think so, though I am not entirely sure. Perhaps I will only know when I am back home, packing, moving, and facing the next stage of life in all its challenges.

 

Maybe there are no simple answers. Maybe this voyage has not been about solving anything, but is more about allowing things to shift. Maybe it has been about giving ourselves a few days without the chaos of the age pounding at us. Maybe it has been about rest, not resolution.

 

Amid it all, I have found peacefulness. A breathing space at sea in a loud world.

 

And perhaps, for now, that is enough.

See you on board!

Nautical Term of the Day – Dogwatch - Shortened evening watch.