Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

June 29, 2010 – Seattle, Washington
By Herb McCormick

Precisely one year ago today, the 64-foot cutter, Ocean Watch, had just passed the 60^th parallel en route from the Aleutian Island fishing outpost of Dutch Harbor, en route to another famed Alaskan port called Nome. Smack dab in the Bering Strait, the crew was enjoying a spectacular summer day, with a radiant blue sky reflected in a calm, almost mirror-flat sea. One month into our hopeful voyage Around the Americas, the reality of the quest – and the burgeoning regime and routine it would take to pull it off – was truly beginning to settle in.

It was like that famous line from the Wizard of Oz: Figuratively speaking, we weren’t in Kansas anymore. But the reality of the situation was that we were all a long way from home, from places in Iowa, Nebraska, California, Washington and Rhode Island. And we wouldn’t be getting back there anytime soon.

Today, of course, the journey is over; Ocean Watch is bobbing at a dock, getting a well-deserved rest; and this will be my final crew log (220 preceded it). For a sailing writer, chronicling this voyage in a daily, serial fashion has been a rare, special opportunity, and it wouldn’t have happened without a list of friends, supporters, sponsors and family that is too long to list here. The same goes for everyone who sailed aboard Ocean Watch, especially the core crew. On behalf of us all, thank you. And thanks also to everyone who followed the trip, especially the students who joined us from their classrooms. From everything we saw, the future is in extremely good hands.

There are a million things we could add here, but for now, let’s address some rather open-ended questions, ones we’ve been asked on numerous occasions since wrapping up the voyage about a fortnight ago.

What’s going to happen to Ocean Watch?
Ocean Watch will be spending the summer at Shilshole Marina in Seattle under the watchful eyes of Andy Gregory, who was a key member of the refit and shore team, and first mate Dave Logan, and will receive a lavish amount of tender loving care following a job well done. Long-term plans are still coming together, as skipper Mark Schrader considers several options ranging from charters to educational voyages to ocean conservation projects.

Will there be a book and a documentary?
That is the plan, and both are in the preliminary stages, though at this writing we’re still seeking funding and/or sponsorship to make both happen. For more information on related opportunities, contact Dawn Curtis Hanley at dcurtishanley@gmail.com.

What are the plans for the website and other updates?
The expedition website will continue to live with new content coming forth from the education and science teams. You can also follow future Around the Americas happenings, including speaking engagements, via Facebook and Twitter (@AroundAmericas). A good way to track down fresh content on the www.aroundtheamericas.org website is through an RSS feed.

What’s an RSS feed?
We’re glad you asked. Live from my current, adjacent cubicle that Pacific Science Center has graciously loaned me this week is onboard educator Zeta Strickland. Zeta, take it away: “The posting schedule for content on the Around the Americas website is changing now that the expedition portion has come to a close. But we will be periodically posting updates on the project, what people are doing, and information about some of our partners in ocean health issues. We know the periodic posting schedule can be tough to follow, so we’d like to encourage you to sign up for the RSS feed of the Around the Americas website. Just click on the orange and white RSS feed button on the upper right corner of the ATA home page.

“Once you have set it up, you no longer have to keep checking the ATA website to see when we post new content. Instead, new content will automatically be posted on your home web page, to the RSS feed on your mobile phone, or to the RSS reader of your choice (Google has one, as do other groups and sites). While you are at it, include other blogs and websites that you follow, including Pacific Science Center, Sailors for the Sea, or other travel/sailing/marine-themed blogs. Once you start following websites this way, you’ll love it.”

Okay, last question: How’s everybody doing?
Well, as I said in my last crew log, finishing a long trip is often harder than doing it, as the day-to-day schedule of the voyage itself makes the days pass quickly. To be honest, now that the prolonged adrenaline rush is over, getting back into the swing of things has been challenging, but interesting. But we’re all doing just fine.

The other night, up at Mark’s place north of Seattle, the grills were fired up and we enjoyed a lovely evening surrounded by family and friends, the unsung heroes of Around the Americas. In the Wizard of Oz, of course, Dorothy never actually left Kansas; her wanderings were the result of a bump on the noggin. Well, we did leave our comfortable surroundings, and the sights we saw – in the Bering Sea, the Northwest Passage, the Falklands, Cape Horn, Galapagos, the west coast, and so on – are something we’ll never, ever forget. As it turns out, the American continents really are one island, surrounded by one ocean. We need to keep pressing the message: We must take better care.

But for now we need to return to Ballard and Lake Okoboji and Santa Barbara and Newport and all the other places from which the extended Ocean Watch family hails. It was a wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime experience, but it’s good to be back. Mate, it was a long bloody trip. And as it turns out, Dorothy was right: There’s no place like home.

Okay, one final thought. Last night, I hauled the remainder of my stuff off the boat, including the two Little Wing carbon-fiber kayaks that proved so useful and fun over the course of our journey. Speaking of home, that’s what Ocean Watch was to all of us for the better part of thirteen months. I’m not one for long goodbyes, so once everything was stashed in my pick-up, with one last armful of gear and paddles I strolled up the docks of Shilshole, with no intention whatsoever of even looking back.

I almost made it back to the truck. But halfway up the ramp, what the heck, I couldn’t help myself, and spun around for one long, last look.

-Herb McCormick with photographs by David Thoreson

*To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

June 24, 2010 – Seattle, Washington
By Herb McCormick

It’s been precisely seven days now since Ocean Watch and her crew stepped ashore at Seattle’s Shilshole Marina to close the circle on the expedition Around the Americas, and in a lot of ways, the last week has been a whole lot stranger and more bizarre than the fifty-five – the length of the voyage – that proceeded it. The core crew of OW – never known or described as paragons of organization – has been a good deal more disoriented and discombobulated than usual, which is saying something. But the truth of the matter is finally becoming crystal clear: There are no more provisions to be laid in, courses to figure out, or watches to stand.

We’re home, and it’s good to be here. Um, we’re pretty sure.

The hardest part of an extended voyage, as many sailors will attest, is finishing it. You think, feel and act differently. Your internal clock, once set by the wind and the waves and the rhythm of shipboard life, is now governed by the uncontrollable, inconvenient and external realities and pressures of a 9-5 schedule and rush-hour traffic. You look at the world, and particularly its trials, travails and trivialities, in an altered and bemused state. Or at least you try to. The trouble with all this, of course, is that society hasn’t changed, even if you have. And if you can’t deal with it, that’s your problem, and nobody else’s.

We’d been back precisely two hours, after much attendant hoopla at Shilshole, when skipper Mark Schrader, dropping me off downtown, was pulled over by a Seattle cop because the registration tags on his Volvo had expired. Granted, being a policeman is not an easy job, but by any standards, the officer was a particularly dour sort. Anyway, I have to say that the irony and timing of the situation, the deathly serious attitude of the totally miserable policeman – after all, this wasn’t a bomb in Times Square – and Mark’s understandable frustration with all of it struck me as fairly hilarious. Mark failed to, uh, share my mirth. Welcome back, Kotter? Nope, welcome back, Captain. Have a nice stinking day.

In any event, due to a veritable whirlwind of activity, as we got onto the business of wrapping things up, matters improved measurably within fairly short order.

First off was a reception and dinner at Pacific Science Center, a wonderful affair where we caught up with oodles of friends, family and supporters. The next day was a Marine Health Symposium at the Applied Physics Lab of the University of Washington, with presentations from many of the scientists we’d partnered with on projects during the course of the expedition – it was great to reunite with them and learn more about their ongoing research, and our role in it. Finally, there was a big Open House at Fisherman’s Terminal followed by a public presentation at PSC’s Eames Theatre. David T’s photos were sensational on the big IMAX screen.

And then, our official duties – presto! – were over. The Aussies have a great saying about the passage of time: From go to whoa. Suddenly, the go was gone. It was all about the woe. I mean, whoa.

Since then, we’ve been lugging gear off the boat; emptying the fridge and freezers (chicken, anybody?); hauling more stuff off Ocean Watch; trying to assimilate into some kind of routine that resembles our former lives; and ferrying tons more gear off the yacht, whose waterline seems to rise considerably with each passing day.

When I sat down to write this little missive, I did so with the full intention of trying to sum up the experience of sailing Around the Americas. But…I can’t. Not yet. Like my mates and brothers in this crazy adventure, I’m still numb by all of it. Please bear with me (and us) for a little while longer. I’ll post another update, a reflective one, early next week, with details on new content for our website, which will remain active and vibrant, and other matters, including the latest news on book and documentary projects and related issues.

For now, thanks to everyone, but especially those who’ve stopped by the boat or sent emails, letters and messages to us since our return to Seattle. We’re honored, grateful and humbled.

And, you know, confused. As it turns out, the voyage was the easy part. Coming back? Well, that’s a good deal more complicated.

-Herb McCormick with photographs by David Thoreson

*This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

*To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

June 17, 2010 – Seattle, Washington
By Herb McCormick

Long ago and far away, when Mark Schrader was but a wee lad growing up on a Nebraska farm, on one fine summer day he drew a big circle on a map of the family spread and then hopped on his bike to trace his line. The simple act became something of a ritual. As the boy grew into a man, whenever a matter large or small piqued his curiosity, he’d get out a pen and draw a circle around it. It was a way to bring order, reason and structure to issues and concepts that didn’t always have hard, measurable boundaries.

A handful of years ago, on a voyage with his mates David Rockefeller, Jr. and David Treadway, the conversation turned to the topic of ocean health and changing climates, and before too long, Mark was again searching for his pencil. What he doodled this time was a large loop on a map of North and South America, and the trip it symbolized was something altogether different than a lap around some low, flat cornfields.

Nope, the idea this time was to set sail on what might best be described as an environmental adventure, a long voyage of learning, research, awareness and discovery on a relatively tiny boat. The journey would dramatize and symbolize the notion that the American continents were a single island surrounded by a common ocean; that what happened on the land would ultimately effect the watery world that surrounded it; and that it was in the best interests of all of us to protect and conserve this most precious, life-sustaining resource.

The circle on the map would ultimately be known as an expedition called Around the Americas, and it would come to consume the dreams and lives not only of the three chaps who conceived it, but a wide team of sailors, scientists, teachers and students, as well as countless citizens of that great big island from all walks of life. That circle became an odyssey that left Seattle a little over a year ago, at first bound northward through the legendary Northwest Passage, then southward past the epic Southern Ocean landmark known as Cape Horn, and then once again north for Seattle, where it all began.

Today, just before noon local time, after 382 incredible days and with 27,524 nautical miles in her wake, the 64-foot cutter, Ocean Watch, sidled up to a dock in the familiar surroundings of Shilshole Marina on Puget Sound, to put the finishing touches on what had started as a sketch in a notepad and ended up taking on a life and mission all of its own. What began as a dream – and not at all a particularly reasonable one – concluded with arcs of water aimed skyward from the hoses of a Seattle Fire Department rescue tug. As the mist from the fire boat once again settled back into the sea, there was only one thing to say.

At long last, Mark’s crazy circle is complete.

Fittingly, along with Skipper Schrader, mate Dave Logan, photographer David Thoreson, oceanographer Michael Reynolds and me, the busy typist, for the final miles from Port Townsend, the core crew was joined by a boatload of mates who’ve played a major role in the journey and logged significant miles aboard Ocean Watch on different legs of the voyage. In no particular order, and with sincere thanks to all of them, it was fantastic to wrap up matters with Kirsty Moen, Bryan Reeves, Warren Buck, Dan Clark, Horacio Rosell, David Rockefeller, Jr., Gretchen Hund, Tyler Osberg, Roxanne Nanninga, Bryce Seidl, Axel Schweiger, Harry Stern and Zeta Strickland.

The day started early, at a shade past five a.m., and by the time Shilshole hove into view, a fine spectator fleet had joined Ocean Watch to welcome her home. Kids on the beach waved signs and greetings, and another throng of well wishers lined the docks as mate Logan nestled the steel yacht alongside for the final time. In remarks to the crowd, Mark said, it’s a magnificent highway out there, and we took it.”

Yes, we did. It was an honor and a privilege, the adventure of a lifetime.

At the moment, visitors are wandering through the boat, things are rather chaotic, and the crew is having a difficult time processing exactly what’s transpired. Personally, I’m having trouble figuring out if this has been the longest year of my life or the shortest, and if today is the happiest one ever or the saddest.

In the days ahead, we’ll continue to file stories here on our website with updates on the science and education programs, future plans for the expedition and some reflections on the voyage. So we’ll save our goodbyes for another day. For now, we’re just soaking things in. It’s great to be home.

Okay, one revelation as we roll out the door: Surprise, surprise, we went out to try, in some very small way, to help change the world, and we ended up changed ourselves.

Thanks for reading. The circle is closed.

-Herb McCormick with photographs by David Thoreson

*This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

*To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.

Open the below photos in a full-screen slideshow in Flickr

June 15, 2010 – Strait of Juan de Fuca, Washington
By Herb McCormick and Roxanne Nanninga

If you stroll up off the docks, hang a right and walk down the quiet highway in the fishing port of Neah Bay, after about a mile you’ll come to a tidy little park with flags flying that commemorates three things: the heritage of the First American natives of the Pacific Northwest, the Makah Nation people, the watermen and women who thrived along this rich coastline for centuries; the Spanish explorers that were the first Europeans to also populate these shores; and the local people who’ve served this country with honor in distant wars.

As war memorials go, the one in Neah Bay is pretty unique. For at the bottom of the black marble tribute, engraved with dozens and dozens of names, is a three-word inscription that couldn’t be more powerful, positive or succinct: “All came home.”

Thank you to the soldiers and sailors of Neah Bay.

Heaven knows our fortunate and even blessed voyage Around the Americas has been anything but a battle, and this anecdote is not meant to be a comparison in any way. But as I took a walk this morning while waiting for the tide to come in so we could get underway on the final leg of this trip to Seattle, the words rang true for other reasons. For here aboard Ocean Watch, we’re headed home.

But first we have a stop to make. When we left Seattle on May 31^st, 2009, our first call was at Port Townsend, so it only makes sense that we should check in on the way back. Besides, our sailmaker, Carol Hasse, calls Port Townsend home, and we need to drop her off on the way by. At midday Tuesday we left our overnight berth along the fishing docks in Neah Bay bound for Port Townsend. The plan is to anchor tonight, one more time, somewhere along the way up the strait. Tomorrow around noon, we’ll fetch up alongside the Northwest Maritime Center & Wooden Boat Foundation and send Hasse back to the sail loft. If you happen to be in Port Townsend, pop by and say hello. [Note from the shore team: dockside open house at the Northwest Maritime Center from 3-5pm on Wednesday, June 15th. More details are available on our Port Townsend page.]

There’s the latest onboard update, but for today’s crew log, we have two tales in one. The second piece is an essay by Pacific Science Center teacher Roxanne Nanninga, who proved to be an invaluable crewmember on our travels through South and Central America, and on through California. Now back in Seattle, Roxanne reflects on her experiences with the expedition while managing, frankly, to make the rest of us blush. Thanks for your dedication as a teacher and for everything else, Roxanne, including this story:

Reflections on a Voyage of Discovery
By Roxanne Nanninga

As the first fingers of light began reaching over the gray sea on the morning of our approach to Santa Barbara, I sat crouched in a ball to stay warm against the cold wind, and considered the journey that had brought me this far. From the Christmas fireworks and apprehension in Punta del Este, Uruguay, through mastery of a curriculum in two languages and a respectable amount of blue water sailing for a complete novice, I decided I’ve come a long way, not just in miles but also as a teacher and as an individual seeking to understand the great scope of our Earth’s environment and its people.

The crew of Ocean Watch and I all seem to agree that the people we’ve met along the way have been what’s made this ambitious project so worthwhile. The kids I have met need no convincing that our ocean is precious and deserves protecting. It’s not just the students, however. Parents, teachers, sailors, and scientists alike expressed gratitude to us for bringing awareness to such critical issues as climate change, ocean acidification, plastics pollution, and a basic understanding of the oceans and its life-giving processes.

These human interactions have often been very brief but that’s all it takes to make an impression. In Uruguay we received an invitation to a home-cooked Christmas dinner. In Chile, where there seemed to be the greatest abundance of kind and helpful people, very early on the morning of my arrival, I bonded with an immigration officer over our shared frustrations with US Visa policies.  There were taxi drivers in Peru who shared with me their authentic sentiments of love for their country, and sometimes disgust, too, offering rare insight to a foreigner. There have been teachers; port authorities; yacht club presidents; library and aquarium staff; random people who saw the website or the news and wanted to be involved; and many, many others who have gone out of their way to help us accomplish our mission or just make our lives away from home more comfortable.  Without them this trip would have had no meaning.

There have also been many non-human encounters that have shaped my experience, the biggest being the sea itself. Dark and formidable, the open ocean is a humbling place. My first memorable night at sea was crossing the mouth of Rio de la Plata in Argentina. An eerie glow from distant Buenos Aires sat on the horizon offering no sense of comfort in the shadowy night, the clouds sometimes parting to reveal a nearly full moon. The glow was echoed on the surrounding phosphorescent-tinged whitecaps. The effect gave me the creeps and I remember counting the minutes until morning.

Fortunately, that feeling eventually passed and I came to appreciate the night watches, especially on a clear, star-lit night.  Others who have spent time at sea know that the skies there are unmatched. The immensity of space that spans both above and below where you sit is a great reminder of our human frailty. In the Southern Hemisphere you could even peer into a neighboring galaxy known as the Magellenic Clouds, or Clusters.  However, just as I would start to believe we were alone on the sea, a dolphin, whale, or bird would come along to disrupt the illusion and remind me of the entire teeming world of life just below the surface.

As you may guess, spending time on a small vessel or in foreign countries with just a few other travelers affords many opportunities to get to know one another in a way not generally possible. The crew of Ocean Watch is a select and accomplished group, whom I have enjoyed getting to know immensely. I have heard Mark refer to his crew as family and with all they have been through and the time spent together through fortune, dysfunction, and understanding I can think of no better term for it. Being one of the few females to take part in this dynamic gives me a unique perspective on it as well. I would like to take a moment to comment on what I have appreciated and learned from each one of them.

From the beginning, Captain Mark Schrader has been warm and welcoming, inviting me into this strange and exclusive world of sailors. His determination is impressive; he was always doing whatever it takes to get where we had to be safely and as on time as possible, which is no small feat.  His passion for ocean stewardship is what has pressed this project forward since its conception, and his desire for perfection has urged us all to do our best work and to stay focused on why we are here: to bring eyes and ears to the plight of our oceans and inspire people to take action to protect it in their respective parts of the Americas.

First mate Dave Logan has been the oil in what makes the entire engine of Around the Americas run smoothly. Purposely understated, Dave often rejects praise for his accomplishments but we all know we wouldn’t have made it around without his hard work and expertise.  Additionally, he has been an essential help with the educational programs, having acted as my “lovely assistant” on many occasions, leading boat tours, setting up banners, sails and our traveling expedition tent, and enchanting both adults and children with his stories and quiet sense of humor.

Our writer is Herb McCormick, whom many of you may feel you know best through his daily logs to the web, which have given voice to this mission and have taught many profound things through his subtle stories. Herb has also provided the salty attitude and humor needed to keep the trip fun. His call-it-as-I-see-it commentary is alternately poignant and hilarious. On one occasion he even agreed to run a writer’s workshop for a hundred thirteen-year-olds at the Yacht Club in Lima. Despite his initial nervousness (yes, the ever-cool Herb McCormick does, in fact, get nervous on occasion) his contributions were a true highlight to the day’s event and I was grateful for it.

David Thoreson, our photographer, has given Around the Americas its face and context with his stunning imagery taken along the entire expedition. His ubiquitous presence at events happening at sea or in port has given us a thoroughly documented voyage and makes me wonder if he ever really sleeps. He was, however, the only one who could convince me to sleep on my first anxious night at sea. Always happy to share his candid opinion, he has proven also to be a great listener and his support was a great comfort to me throughout the journey.

Though Dr. Michael Reynolds was not a part of the core crew, I think he has been along for enough of it to be counted as an honorary member.  He has not only kept us focused on the scientific discovery of this mission but has also helped remind us all to relax a little. Never flustered, Michael would carry on with his science in the background no matter what other chaos had ensued. He offered interesting and humorous tidbits on watch and kept me on my toes by finding hats, cameras, and other items the sometimes absent-minded professor would leave behind. Still, we owe a great deal of our credibility to him.

There were of course many others I have had the pleasure of traveling with along the way. Though I can’t mention them all by name here, each one helped enrich my time with this voyage. Thanks to all of you.

I think I speak for all of us when I say it will take a considerable amount of time to fully process the experiences we’ve had with the project and sometimes lifestyle called Around the Americas. I have learned a great deal and given much of myself. And I feel grateful.

-Herb McCormick and Roxanne Nanninga with photographs by David Thoreson

*This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos

*To add a comment to this story click on the comment link below the post title. Please direct your messages for the crew to crew@aroundtheamericas.org instead of submitting them here. Thanks for following the Around the Americas Expedition.