Saturday, December 7, 2019

Sailing, Science, Sisterhood on Board eXXPedition, Day 4 and Home Again



Sailing, Science, Sisterhood
on Board eXXPedition,
Day 4 and Home Again

Catch up with Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3! 

I can’t believe it’s already the last day. I feel as though I’ve just met all of these amazing, powerhouse, badass women and, just as we’re really getting to know each other, it’s time to go. Everyone has amazing ideas for action already, and I’m still mulling mine around.

There will be time for sadness later, we’re up early to do the Science we missed out on yesterday! It’s our last round of sediment grabs, Manta trawls, and Niskin bottles. We’re sailing against the wind, and I still don’t have sea legs. I watch Maggie and Sophie move with grace and ease while I’m still stumbling like a dog in a car. Also, I notice my seasickness has lessened. Perfect timing.

Anyway, it finally happens, the moment I’ve been dreading. We’re doing some science and I’ve got to shift around the other girls. I try to step over a line and the yacht catches a wave, tripping me. I land on my hands and knees (small mercy!) and slide across the slippery deck, my hands crashing into the lip on the edge of the deck. I’m glad I stayed clipped in.




Before we go, we each write cards echoing the strengths we shared the night before. I write too big and take up a lot of valuable space. I love this exercise- I’ve done it with girls many, many times. I have every single one of them saved. My new eXXpedition card is hanging on my mirror. These are a treasure.

And suddenly, it’s come to an end. We must pack our bags, pack ourselves into the dingy, and bring the adventure to a close.
Talking to some VIPs

Maggie, Sophie, and Anna pack us one final lunch and we head ashore. We’re greeted by members of the Antigua tourism board and maritime registry, who are interested in the work we’re doing- both to clean the ocean and to advance women in STEM. I accidentally drop a “shit” bomb, but one of the head honchos Katarina, laughs me off and hands me her card. Each of us talks briefly, but passionately, about what we have seen. They gift us rum (!!!) and travel goodies.

Immediately after, I get a fresh berry smoothie- I haven’t had fresh fruit in DAYS. We sit on the marina and eat our last veggie, potato-heavy lunch. I’m really going to miss our communal meals.
It’s time to head out to our presentation at a local primary school. We’re all in matching shirts- peak after-school special time. The children drag chairs out from their classrooms and set up in neat rows under a pavilion. I’m tasked with talking about the mission. I work with tweens and teens- little ones are out of my expertise. I notice some older girls in the back and decide I’m going to imagine talking to them.

I step up to talk and I instantly feel at home, using my booming voice and big hand gestures to tell the kids all about what we’re doing: sailing around the world to research ocean plastic AND show the world what a group of women can do! One of the girls nudges her friend, who brightens up. “You could be on the next mission!” I tell her. “We need girls just like you!”

Leah, the ever patient and sunny teacher, gets them excited about the ocean. In an island nation like Antigua, nearly every student has a connection to the ocean. They grow up fishing, swimming, and snorkeling, and their families’ livelihoods most likely comes from fishing or tourism.

Lara breaks down the difference between plastic like that in the medical field and single-use plastic, like the kind that lines a coffee cup or makes a plastic bag. She shares that single use plastics don’t ever break down, they break apart until they’re microscopic….and basically, they’re in everything.
The children ask questions- they’re so incredibly astute and curious. It’s one of the reasons I love working with youth. They’re accepting and willing to make change. They’re passionate about injustice and unfairness. They want to help right wrongs. No one has a better sense of what it fair than a teenager.

We encourage them to, whenever possible, forgo plastic and reuse when they can. These are simple steps that children can do and feel proud of doing. One of the older girls in the back waves her metal straw, jokingly chastising her friend for having a Starbucks-type cup.
Look out, we're coming! 

Of course, we end by singing the song and encouraging the kids to sing with us. Somehow, I’m in the middle so a lot of the kids are looking at me. At least, it feels that way. I can’t sing a note, but I’m enthusiastic, and everyone else’s voices are so lovely that it blends into a beautiful melody. I refrained from busting out the tambourine- I have less rhythm than I do singing talent. Some of the kids sing with us, and some sing on the way back to their classrooms.

Jeanine is the Rockstar here- she wrote a children’s book about the earth and shows it off to a group of the kids. They love her instantly and she hugs all of them. One of the older girls comes up to Kristen and me, saying she’d like to be on our mission- no one else’s. She tells us about how she rescued some ocean life stuck in a net and wants to be a marine biologist. Kristen gets misty-eyed. I want to teach her everything I know. She hugs us both and we take selfies. The future, I tell you. I hope against hope that these sharp little ones never lose their passion and curiosity.

We opt to walk back down the hill, to the marina to pick up our bags. Now it’s really an afterschool special, a group of similarly dressed, mostly white women, one with a tambourine, walking down a street. Or some sort of mission....or a cult. The same roads that I praised for their cleanliness earlier, I notice are dotted with trash- tin cans, cardboard, some plastic. Still, they’re cleaner than my neighborhood.

Jeanne convinces us to stop at a cute little café for Christmas juice, made with sorrel from the hibiscus plant. It’s one of the last moments we’ll all be together.

Back at the marina, most of us head up for dinner at the yacht club. The waitress, a Canadian, tells us about some of the poaching horrors she’s seen and heard. It’s a stark reminder that we’ve returned to reality, out of the optimism bubble. “You must’ve gotten close,” she says, about our days at sea. I look around, “I think I have seen all of these women naked,” I reply.

Sally laughs at us, excited for cheese and pina coladas, saying we couldn’t survive an ocean crossing. Not in a mean way- she thinks we would surprise ourselves with our resilience (agreed)- but that we’re pretty soft when it comes to food. I mean, where’s the lie, Sally?! We pour Antiguan rum into our pina coladas and cheers.

As we’re settling the bill, reality finally hits. This is really it.

“I feel so lucky to have known you all,” I start. “It seems so unfair that our paths just crossed and now we all have to leave. I really, truly have learned so much from everyone, and I want to stay in contact, OK?” I’m finally crying, Jeanine laughs, and welcomes me to the soft side. 

I see Jeanne and Leah the next day, at a swim up cocktail bar where we drink strong rum punch and pick at boat-delivered truffle fries. It’s a birthday celebration- my actual 31st.While we’re floating at the bar, a (American expat man) keeps touching my shoulder, even though I ask him to stop, because I’m still sunburned. He apologizes, but keeps doing it, because “it’s my birthday!” Real life is the pits. Where’s my all-woman bubble, damn it? I’ve been so wonderfully isolated the last few days. On the way out, the waitress kisses my cheek and thanks me- us- for the work we’re doing.

I spend my long trip home reading and reflecting. Everywhere in the airport, I see plastic. Most of it seems so unnecessary. It’s all going to be tossed away within minutes, recycled if we’re lucky, and then who knows what will become of it. It’s excessive and staggering, like suddenly blinders have been taken off and I see everything for exactly what it is.

On the phone, my mom sighs a resigned sigh when I tell her that she’s eating microplastic, without a doubt. She is incredibly health conscious and I know this news bothers her. I have a long layover in New York and spend Thanksgiving with friends. One asks me if Number 5 plastic is recyclable. When I’m finally home, my boyfriend picks me up, with the dog in tow. It’s nice to be back. The first thing I do, after I take a real shower, is clip my nails.

As soon as I stepped off the boat, I started to evaluate my own life choices and see where I can make changes. If we’re going to eat meat, we can at least buy sustainable meat from the farmer’s market. I can bring my own cup to the coffee shop and carry reusable products. I make it a mission to learn more about our recycling programs too. There must be a way to pressure my “progressive” local government to make changes. And believe me, companies are going to get an inbox-full when I see excessive plastic packaging. My changes help, but we need sustainable, big changes too, from governments and corporations.

It’s daunting and it really feels like the beginning of something wonderful. I know we’re unstoppable. 

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 This is my reflection on Leg 3 of the eXXpedition around the world voyage. All views are my own, not the views of my fellow sailors, Sally Earthrowl, or eXXpedition. For more about eXXPedition, visit https://exxpedition.com/expedition/round-the-world.


Bye for now <3 

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