When I was fifteen, my mom was all about adventure travel. She wanted to do something fun and exciting that I would remember for my whole life. She signed the two of us up for a week sailing on a Tall Ship. The ship that she chose was a training vessel, but was also a working boat. You were expected to work and eat with the crew and generally have a real life experience of what it would have been like to be a sailor in the 1800s. We went out and bought Helly Hensen slickers with matching overalls that were sure to keep out any kind of wet, and climbed on board the ship.

The first day was spent in harbor learning the basics of sail, including hauling on the ropes to move the sails. We all had more than a few blisters quickly. There were also lessons on repairing the sails using canvas patches and a needle and thread, and cooking for a crowd. Finally, there was the up-and-over, which is where you climb up the mast and then down the other side, by hanging on to the ratlines. I’m not scared of heights, but it is on the top ten of the most frightening experiences of my life. Anyway, they give you a harness to use while you’re doing these nearly-suicidal things, but it takes so long to clip and unclip your way up the mast that I never ended up using the thing, except for the crossing over at the top. I sure as hell clipped in for that. Long story short, climbing the mast, no big deal. Totally terrifying, but once you do it the first time, no problem.

The next six days were spent at sea. The first couple of days were fantastic. I had a great time. We kept watch, I got to steer the ship (frequently, actually), and we were busy constantly. Then the storm hit. The boat pitched so violently that guide ropes were put up to help you walk along the deck. On top of that, all the motion made me violently seasick. I lost fifteen pounds over the course of the week. Not pleasant at all. So I had a guide rope in one hand, and was bracing against the edge of the ship with the other, so I could throw up. Nice, I know.

Finally, we reached our destination and goodbyes were said. Mom decided that was her last expedition to the sea. She was done. I on the other hand, was not. I loved it, even though I was sick and tired and slept for 22 hours straight after we got home. I couldn’t wait to get back on those ships. I wanted the life of a sailor. Hardly any possessions, but enough adventure in your life that it didn’t matter. Unfortunately, I have yet to go back, but more than anything, I want to sail the world in a tall ship. It sounds so phenomenal, that I’d love to do it. I’m sure I will actually, someday.

On that note, here are some pictures from when I went to see the ships yesterday with my dad!