My years at Sea

There was a time when you could call me Ishmael.

I was young, sturdy and looking for adventure

I had proven myself in the scholastic world and the streets of New York City, but I knew I needed something "just for me" I wanted my very own 'rite of passage' I wanted to test myself against the world on my own terms.

After some consideration on the subject, it occured to me that if I set the goal on too small a scale, I would eventually regret it. I would have spent my youth and strength on a shallow task. The purpose and depth would soon fade in my memory, and the core of my being would still be left unchallenged.

Therefore, I set before me the goal of standing upon the ground and holding in my hand the soil of every continent in the world.

Where to begin?

Just a small bit of logic answered the question. At the time, Richard Leakey was discovering that the human species most likely originated in Africa. Additionally, it had always been known as the mysterious contenent

That had to be the place to start.

How to get there?

It just wouldn't be fair to my quest to get there easily. Where was the challenge?

My father had been a seafarer for many years. During WWII, he had been on the famous ' Murmansk run ' (PQ-17) where 35 cargo ships left the United States and all but 11 were lost to German U Boats between Iceland and Russia (he was obviously on one of the 11).

I recalled that his sea tales hinted at the hardships involved.

Well then, I supposed, getting there by ship would half the fun. Besides, ocean travel seemed to be the most traditionally pure method of reaching foreign shores.

Thoughts of Magellan, Columbus and Leif Erickson solidified my decision.

By ship it would be, then.

And so it was, that in the spring of the year 1965, I signed aboard the good ship Robin Locksley, bound for Capetown and points beyond.

^{S.S. Robin Locksley at sea off the coast of Africa}

^{(Scan of photo courtesy of my good friend Greg Ek-Collins)}