by Zach Schwarzbach 5-14-02

Water has surrounded the Golden Bear at every leg of our journey. Water has taught me a great deal, with its quiet power and beauty. Every day thousands of ships pass through water. Occasionally rough seas will slow them down, but for the most part, the water does not resist. Most of the time the water simply parts and flows by. Life on the Golden Bear has taught me a lot about flowing. Ship-life constantly presents us with resistance; multitudes of regulations, contrasting personalities, and struggles within ourselves. Some do all they they can to counter with greater resistance. I now understand, and prudence would dictate, that resistance should be met with a more fluid approach, like water. Why press against, when flowing around will provide success with greater ease? This philosophy has enabled me to thoroughly enjoy my experiences on the Golden Bear.

Living this fluid lifestyle meant developing a heightened sense of myself. As we read Allen Duff's One Night Out Stealing , I thought a lot about Sonny's character. I thought of living more in my head than out. At the beginning of the trip, I withdrew into myself. It wasn't seclusion so much as quiet introspection. I could interact socially, as expected, but never totally opened up until I had a sense of where I belonged on this ship. I gave extensive thought to how I fit into the grand scheme of things on the Golden Bear. As I met new people, I always wondered what impression I gave them. I possessed a sound sense of myself prior to coming on this trip, so it is important that my introspection not be confused with insecurity. If anything, I was being patient, not wanting to force myself into any contrived roles on the ship. I waited for my place and then moved into it, like Sunny waiting to take action; or perhaps like water, rolling around, finding its own level.

This period of waiting made me feel a lot of different emotions. The simple human side, the side whose thirst is quenched by companionship, felt lonely. My girlfriend calls me "bear". This nickname comes from my hairy buns. Bears tend to be solitary independent animals, and I see myself sharing some of their traits beyond body hair. The independent side of me felt really liberated. On the Golden Bear I never worry about phone calls or bills, and for the short time prior to really getting to know anyone, I didn't worry about commitments to people, beyond just being a decent person. I simply went about my day sometimes talking to my peers, and sometimes just thinking about whatever happened to be in my head.

I think my experience in Tahiti really set the stage for me to figure out my role in the group. First, on the island of Moorea, I really connected with someone from the ship. This person motivated me to extend myself, and open up. She became this sort of human link between me and the rest of the students. Next was the infamous night in Papeete. At the end of the night the events with the group started to get sketchy. Traveling with my girlfriend over the past three years, I've become extremely wary of dangerous situations. In Papeete, when sleazy looking locals (funny how every country has them) began coming out of the woodwork, my sensors switched on. They must have smelled the naivete and come running with their cut-down and laced drugs, and deceptive grins. Students began spreading out into various bars and discos. Some women were being approached by shady characters, and to top things off, copious amounts of alcohol made for clouded judgments. For lack of a better word, things were bad. Many of the events of that evening are common knowledge, and don't bear repeating, nor are they significant to me on a personal level. What is significant is the responsibility I felt to keep an eye out for everyone there. I acted on that feeling. Like Sonny the night he killed Jube. Not knowing it at the time, I slipped into my role with the Cal Poly at Sea group. I never tried to be the life of any party, or something unnatural like that. I just waited, and remained as myself until I flowed into my place.

Being fluid helped me enjoy the ports. There were times in ports when people could not decide what to do, or they were hesitant to try something for fear of missing out on something better. Certain people seemed miserable the whole trip because they were afraid they weren't doing the right activities or seeing the right things, as if such things exist. The few times I ended up traveling with people like this, I made a point to get away from them as quickly as possible. Their negativity and stress would spread and bring down everyone. One day I found myself riding a bus back into Brisbane from the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary with a bunch of other students. Perhaps the long day on little sleep got the best of me, but I felt that I needed some space. I immediately rang the bell for the next stop. The bus left me near the Victoria Bridge, above South Bank. As I walked toward downtown Brisbane, the sun set behind me, the full moon slowly crept up behind the city ahead of me. Needless to say I took advantage of this Kodak moment as I crossed the bridge. The twenty minutes spent walking alone satisfied me, bringing the splendor of our trip back into perspective. When I met resistance with the group I was in, I simply flowed in a different direction.

The idea of being fluid constantly comes into play with my daily life on the Golden Bear. There exists this constant negativity about the food, the rules, the ship, the classes, and every other minuscule aspect of this cruise. It permeates everything, robbing people of joy. It wears you down. I can honestly say that I have found something amazing every day of this trip to help me stay positive. Some days it is a sunset, others, a person. Even the operation and powering of the ship amazes me. Rather than resist the difficult aspects of life at sea, I get up every day, tuck my shirt into my goofy shorts, stand in line at quarters, and go to class. Instead of lamenting over all of the things that CMA makes me do, I put my energy toward doing the things that make me happy. I spend as much time as I can outside, soaking up the endless magnificence of the Pacific Ocean. I workout every afternoon. I found that I really enjoy Hatha Yoga thanks to Leah Carey. I sit and reflect on the amazing places I've been over the past weeks, with my new friends.

More than investing in my personal activities, I have tried to immerse myself in the CMA lifestyle, instead of criticizing it. Some of the coolest people I've met on this trip are CMA students, like Ian Maury. A highlight for me was a night in Fiji, when I had a beer with the Chief Engineer and discussed how exhilarating running around the quarterdeck is. In the past seven weeks I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about seamanship, and I've learned more than I thought I would know about myself. Every day brings resistance; some meet it with greater resistance. I have chosen to be fluid and it has made all the difference.