This year sixteen people, with sixteen very different personalities and sleep patterns, embraced this journey with the California Maritime Academy. We were welcomed aboard the TS Golden Bear by 170 CMA cadets and staff (the ladies were more welcome than the gentlemen), and shoved out into the great Pacific to sink or swim. We Cal Poly students were given three days to become united as a group, and then given two months to learn to hate each other, and I can truthfully say I don't think I have ever laughed so much in a two-month period.

Everything about this trip depends on you. The route doesn't change, the routine doesn't change, you change, or don't, to adapt to each new situation. So when you're making the decision to come to Cal Poly at Sea, ask yourself: "Are you ready?"

Are you ready for fabulous sunsets, dolphins, starry nights, blue waterfalls, golden horizons, pristine beaches, palm trees, new cultures, and new faces"

Are you ready for uniforms, fog horns waking you up at 5 am, rules that are never really explained, harsh grooming standards, communal bathrooms, roommates, strict curfews, cafeteria food and scrubbing decks?

Are you ready to shake off a crude comment with a laugh, to lend an ear to a homesick buddy, to smile when you've made a fool of yourself, to scram when a ranking officer is in a black mood, to keep going when you're not feeling top-notch?

Are you ready to look around you and realize that the picture a former CP cadet paints of this trip in no way compares, good or bad, to what you will actually experience?

For me, the answer to all of these questions was YES! I reveled in the idea of being part of a ship's crew, and I embraced the idea of the same treatment, the same crappy food, and the same dirty jobs. I liked the idea of rock-hard bunks, swabbing decks, hot engine rooms and uniforms almost as much as I liked the idea of sitting on a sunny deck under a glorious blue sky, sailing into a foreign port.

With Cal Poly at Sea, you take the cruise as a whole. You are a part of it, and no amount of bitching will make the cruddy parts any better so you might was well put on a smile and get them done quick. You have your roommates for two months, period. You have to be friends, period. You have to scrub decks, so you might as well turn on the music and get to work. You have to wear the uniform, so you might as well realize how much time you save by not deciding what to wear in the morning. It is the people who do not realize that they are attending a maritime academy (one step down from a military academy) who are disappointed.

AT 5:30 this morning I awoke to the sound of a foghorn. A quick look out my window showed a misty coastline across the water, and the sun just peeking though the haze. I had just rolled back over for a few more minutes of sleep when my roommate's alarm clock started screaming: "beep-beep BEEP! Beep-beep BEEP!" It was time for her to climb out of bed, get into her uniform, and make her way down to the mess deck to start scrubbing trays for breakfast. I almost felt sorry for her, but then I remembered that I did the same thing two days ago while she slept in.

Some people call three days of CC, or kitchen duty, the worst part of the trip with Cal Poly at Sea. If they're right, then the rest of the trip must be fantastic because spraying dishes with a hose and singing along to Johnny Cash with five CMA cadets doesn't ruin my day. Neither does dropping a tray on the mess deck and being applauded, a la the Lighthouse, telling ghost stories in a ballast tank, pretending to take a sauna in the engine room where it's 104 degrees, or being bowled over by a cadet three times my size in the passageway and laughing until I can't breathe. Even sweating for half an hour in the sun under the hot vents of the helo deck during a fire drill has its moments.

You wear a hardhat and lifejacket to fire drills, you keep your hair off your neck and ears and you face clean shaven, you don't run in the passageways, you keep fire doors closed, you make your bed for daily inspection, and you don't get sent to any disciplinary hearings. You go to your division commander (another Cal Poly student) with your questions and problems, and you share the limited resources aboard the ship with your shipmates.

And when the work is done, you get to play! You make friends with cadets, watch movies in Pirate's Cove, sunbathe on "Steel Beach", stargaze on the helo deck, pump iron in the gym, learn to play cribbage, watch dolphins from the bow, and drive the ship. And that's all before you get to port!

When you step off the ship in a foreign port you leave the comfort and convenience of your little ocean-going home. The people around you are just as eager as you are to experience the sights, sounds, and alcohol of these countries. Take time out to visit a few natural wonders or tourist interest places. It may be the only chance you ever get to wander a Pacific Island or hike along a rainforest beach, or look at monkeys in the wild. You stumble through the language, barter with taxi drivers, experiment with drinking the local water (in some countries guaranteeing a trip to the sick bay), and get sunburned on a deserted beach.

There is a serious side to your port stays, as there is with most CMA procedures. You are a representative of your ship, your shipmates, your school, and your country, and a lot rides on your behavior. Having fun is encouraged, but having the Chief Mate bail you out of a foreign jail is a good way to buy yourself a plane ticket home. Good shipmates hold the TS Golden Bear together and your challenge during this trip is to be the kind of person people what to be stuck in a sardine can with.

In truth, Cal Poly at Sea is the opportunity of a lifetime, but it isn't a chance to do whatever the hell you want. You're still in school and you're living in a tiny floating village, and you have a responsibility as a part of the crew to make the cruise work. It's what you make of it, good or bad.