IRISH SEAS — The cycle has come full circle, and few on the Sea Trek 2001 voyage have been able to escape the sorrow and pain.
It's harsh to say but very true. On Sunday the tall ship Sorlandet crew No. 3 (Gothenburg to Liverpool) had its last Sunday service aboard the Norwegian vessel. There were tears and testimonies as new friends faced the parting that would come the following day.
Following the spiritual meeting, two female crew members led the group in a round of sea shanties. Souls were lifted and hearts were full as the group made its way into the banjer, or sleeping area, for the evening.
Knowing it was the last day at sea together, many of the younger — and some of the older — trainees decided it was time to even some scores with others aboard the ship.
The first to succumb to the mob was Thomas Wiklof of Sweden, known for his loud snoring and bare feet. A group of pranksters waited until Wiklof had began his evening symphony and then made their move.
Janice White of Lancaster, Calif., unveiled a bottle of silver fingernail polish, provided by Kristen Winmill of Lincoln, Calif., to the ever-willing group. McKay Wilcox of Draper made sure the video camera was in position as White carefully began to paint Wiklof's toenails a metallic silver.
Surrounded by muffled laughter, White and her posse worked their way to the other Swedes where smiley faces were meticulously pained on any exposed body parts.
The following morning, after the laughter had faded and snoring had subsided, tears fell. The passengers had spent more than a week together, cramped up in a banjer with more than 40 other people — sharing meals, swapping stories and comforting one another.
Families gathered up their belongings and souvenirs were crammed into brimming bags. Journals and address books were passed around and the flashes of cameras illuminated the room.
As the Sorlandet pulled into the harbor in Liverpool, the crew and passengers gathered for group photos and Von and Sue Perry of Salt Lake City presented three copies of the Book of Mormon to the captain to be stored in the ship's library. The books were in three different languages — English, Swedish and Norwegian — and each contained testimonies in the appropriate language, along with the names and some addresses of the passengers who were on that leg of the voyage.
It was hard to see my friends walk up the gangplank and off the ship. Of the 43 passengers, only seven of us would remain for the next leg.
Fifty new passengers had signed up for the final leg of the "gathering," the Liverpool to Portsmouth, England, journey, and I wondered what kind of people they would be.
I soon found out.
The first day of the voyage from Liverpool was tough. With only seven "seasoned" sailors working with the crew, there was much to do. I had the opportunity of steering the ship out of the St. George's Channel (which I was later to learn was one of the most dangerous parts of the voyage) while the others helped with sails and rigging.
By the end of day one, people were starting to feel stomachs revolt. Shortly after dinner there were at least five people who had spoken to Neptune through the trumpets under the stairs.
On day two, the banjers looked like a battlefield. The passengers lay huddled in their bunks surrounded by sleeping bags and small buckets. They moaned and groaned as the ship rocked from side to side. Occasionally they were persuaded to come up for a breath of fresh air, only to return to the confines of their bunks.
The fried fish dinner only seemed to compound the problem, and about one-third of the new voyagers found themselves suffering from seasickness. Those of us who had already overcome the dreadful sensation tended to those in need.
On the third, and final full day at sea, the sun shown brightly and voyagers arose from the darkness of the banjers to the light of the deck. Within a matter of hours the banjers were empty and the decks were filled with laughter and games.
As the night drew to a close, a CD player was produced, and I brought out some of my music. For the next hour and a half the passengers danced the Jitterbug Stroll, the square dance and Virginia Reel. The captain and several crew members came to witness the scene.
After a time, two of the crew members offered to sing shanties, which led to even more singing. First songs were more traditional, then crew members and passengers sang national anthems from their home lands, followed by silly camp songs and hymns.
I can't think of a better way to close up "the gathering." The crew and trainees spent the night in a common bond, singing and dancing. It reminded me of the early emigrants who would sing and dance at the day's end.
The spirit of the evening will be long lasting. Memories of dancing in the moonlight and singing on the deck of the Sorlandet will stay forever. As I embark on the next portion of this voyage, my spirits are lifted and I feel as though all will be well.
Tawny Archibald's trip is being underwritten by the Sea Trek Foundation and independent private donations.