We were deciding whether to go on an old ship, a wooden one with sails, to the arctic to look at and maybe swim with sharks. The trip would take 4 days, they told us. You were nervous, you wanted to see where we were going to sleep before we made a decision. You were very hung up on the sleeping arrangements, you wanted to know that you'd have enough space to turn over, and not too close to too many people. You were also worried it was a sham. I was pushing us to just make the decision and pay the captain for the voyage, I kept telling you what an amazing story it would be to tell afterwards. I thought about what I needed to do in the next few days and if I had 4 days to take off. We finally paid (without looking at the sleeping places) and spent the night on the dock, in a little cabin that had two-man tents (the long triangular ones) lined up in rows for us to climb into and sleep.
The next day we go to see the captain. He has short greying hair, very tanned. He is uncertain about us coming because he needs people who could help the crew with the sailing on the voyage. But he agrees after a bit. He shows us where we will sleep - in a small cabin with cushioned benches inside the ship. Its warm (though now you're worried about us being cold). The whole crew will be sleeping there, but he assures us there's space for us.
We go out walking on the pier, just before the launching with two people from the crew - a biologist/scientist woman and a man. They know the water well, they're showing us maps of where we will sail. In the water around the pier there are many sharks swimming. Its not scary, just interesting to see all different ones. Little tiny ones jump out of the water onto the pier and snap their teeth at us, we kick them back into the water gently. The scientist points out one in the water, a big one. It has a barrel around its body, its fins stick out the sides. The scientist seems to know it well, like a pet. It launches itself out of the water, this vision of the barrelled shark in the air is the strongest one.
We ship out. As we push off from the dock, I have a feeling that theres no turning back now. I almost fall off the ship with the momentum of the plunging waves. I ask for a life jacket, and the captain holds out a raincoat to me - its inside pockets are filled with drawing supplies - colourful markers and pencils and brushes. He apologizes, then starts to transfer the pens and pencils to his pockets, looking sheepish. I protest, I dont need it anyway. You watch this interaction with curiosity and a little glee.
We stop along the way on an island so the crew can get their mail - post from around the world. The island has a warehouse building full of little metal post office boxes and grey mail bags. They look pleased with their mail but also sad - they miss their families.
As we get back on the ship, I wonder whether I'll be comfortable getting in the water with the sharks, when we get to the arctic circle. I try to convince myself that its a good idea.
