Last week may have been the best week I have spent so far in Bermuda. I was asked at the last minute to chaperone a group of 13 year old girls on a 5 day sailing trip aboard the Spirit of Bermuda, a 110 ft. tall ship (sloop). Needless to say I jumped at the chance. André struggled with being the supportive husband and being happy for me to being positively green with jealousy. I was concerned with turning green from seasickness. I have certainly spent many wonderful times on boats, but my sailing has mostly been limited to sitting on the aft deck with a drink in one hand and a bowl of cheesie poofs in the other. Being trapped on a ship with 21 adolescent girls is not everyone’s idea of a fun time—honestly it wasn’t mine either, but I was willing to make the sacrifice to get out on the water.
The whole idea of the trip is to provide middle school children with an opportunity to learn more about their home, to experience teamwork and responsibility while sailing around Bermuda for 5 days. The Bermuda Sloop Foundation, which commissioned the Spirit in 2006, splits the cost with the Ministry of Education to give every single child the opportunity. It has since been scaled down to 2 groups from each school. Despite the enormous costs involved, I have never been part of such an educationally valuable experience for kids. From the get-go, the students are the crew. They are shown how to do something and are expected to carry it out. They set the sails, reef the main, work the winches, pilot the ship, put in 2 hour anchor watches all night all under the eyes of the watch commanders—a group of young sailors who know the ship and understand students. Teachers have the option of participating fully or simply enjoying the ride. It was all I could do not to elbow the kids out of the way so I could do it all! I was hauling on the halyard, setting the battens and I’m not sure how many opportunities in my life will require me to tie a flying bowline, but I am ready when it happens.
You would think a bunch of 13 year old girls would complain about the amount of work, lack of down time, lack of junk food, lack of TV and cell phones, lack of privacy, time to do their hair (although miraculously they seemed to find time for this anyway. It would appear from the photos that I did not), not having their own room or even their own bunk. They were required to ‘hot bunk’ as there are always several crew on night watch, so they trade bunks with each shift. These girls rose to the challenges and responsibility given them. It was a sight to behold. They were the crew. 
We went snorkelling on a shipwreck. Shipwreck is also an appropriate description of trying to get me into a wetsuit. I swear once they got that suit zipped up my head grew 3 sizes. As God is my witness, I will never wear Spanks again! Snorkelling was the absolute highlight for me. Many of the girls found the water cold and a couple were non-swimmers and were scared witless. They have since become my heroes—diving right in and grabbing my hands and swimming along with me the entire time—pointing out blue angelfish and parrot fish.
In the evenings there is an on-board educator to provide lessons specific to Bermuda and the curriculum—migratory patterns, weather systems, the role of the sea in the history of Bermuda, flora and fauna, etc. This was perfect for me as there was much I didn’t and don’t know a lot about Bermuda. We were able to visit NonSuch Island—a nature preserve to which very few people, including Bermudians, are not permitted access. We were treated to a private tour and were shown
the various species endemic to Bermuda—the skink lizard, blue-eyed spiders the size of your hand that eat cockroaches. Personally, I think cockroaches have a certain charm and I wouldn’t mind their proliferation if it meant I would stop dreaming about thousands of blue eyes in the lawn. We had an opportunity to see only 2 of 50 remaining cahows—a nocturnal seabird native only to Bermuda whose plaintive calls and night flights scared the initial prospective settlers away, leaving Bermuda to be colonized by the English. Otherwise I would be wearing a sombrero and sipping margaritas, rather than wearing long shorts and gulping rum swizzle. Honestly, they sailed across the Atlantic in search of adventure and riches and were scared off by a bird, not the giant blue-eyed roach-eating spiders?
We spend a lot of time believing that young people either can’t or won’t do anything of value. They either need to be babied or we are quick to comment on their failures. These girls rose to the challenge of being given real responsibility and did a truly amazing job. The most impressive thing was not how well they sailed the boat, but how they worked together, with not a mean word amongst them. If we could duplicate this in the schools of the world, we would see miracles happen in our communities. That’s not to say they stopped being little girls. They squealed and skipped and giggled and danced and sang and worried about their hair and got crushes on the crew. I love being a role model.
It would seem that my fears of seasickness were unfounded. Sailing the ship, learning the language of boats and being on the water have created a renewed desire to make being in and on the ocean a bigger part of my life. Sailing is fun, but it is also hard work. That’s one of the things we wanted the girls to learn—anything of value is worth working hard for. Of course, getting the orange stains off your fingers from the cheesie poofs takes effort, too.
