The days on the ship have begun to blur into the nights, and the nights, well, they’ve taken on a life of their own. Each evening seems to stretch out in the most delightful way, filled with lively, animated conversations we never quite expect yet fully embrace. There’s something about being at sea that opens people up. Perhaps it’s the shared experience, the gentle sway of the ship, or the understanding that for this stretch of time, we are all part of the same floating little world.
We couldn’t have anticipated more fun than this. Truly. It feels like each day brings a new opportunity to connect, laugh, and share stories with people who were strangers just days ago. Now, they feel like fast friends. As long as we don’t get sick, we will be absolutely thrilled. That thought lingers in the background, not in a fearful way, but more as a cautious awareness shaped by past experiences.
So far, we haven’t heard any coughing or sneezing, nor have we run into anyone who appears to be under the weather. It’s almost as if we are all collectively holding our breath, hoping to keep things just as they are. But it’s early yet. Today is only Day 4, and from what we’ve learned on past cruises, if illness is going to strike, it often waits until the end of the first or even the second week. For now, we remain optimistic, grateful for each healthy day.
This particular voyage, with its tremendous number of sea days, suits us just fine. There’s no rush, no constant packing and unpacking, no pressure to see and do everything in a limited amount of time. We’ve already visited the few ports of call on past cruises on our way toward Seattle, each offering a unique glimpse into a different place. But what we’re enjoying most is this unhurried stretch in between.
There’s something deeply satisfying about settling into the cadence of ship life, finding our favorite spots, recognizing familiar faces, and falling into easy conversations that pick up right where they left off the day or night before. It feels comfortable, almost like a small town that happens to be moving across the ocean.
The one stop we’re especially looking forward to mid-cruise is Oahu. That visit holds a special place in our hearts, as we’ll be seeing our dear friends Kathy and Don, whom we haven’t seen in a year. Just thinking about that reunion brings a smile. There’s nothing quite like reconnecting with people who know you well, who have shared in your journey over time. Those moments remind us of how fortunate we are to have such meaningful friendships scattered across the world.
And then, as this journey winds down, another reunion awaits us in Seattle. On that final day, our dear friends Rita and Gerhard will be there to pick us up from the cruise terminal. From there, we’ll make the two-plus-hour drive to Vancouver, Washington, near their home. We can already picture those first hugs, the familiar laughter, and the long conversations that will carry on late into the evening. The last time we saw them was in Bali in December, during a port of call, which somehow feels both recent and distant at the same time.
It’s remarkable when we think about it. Not only are we meeting new people on this cruise and reconnecting with many we met on this very ship months ago, but we’re also weaving in these deeply meaningful reunions along the way. It adds a richness to the journey that goes far beyond the destinations themselves.
And as if all of that weren’t enough, it’s hard to believe that in just a month, we’ll be in Minnesota, surrounded by our dear family. May 17 feels both far away and just around the corner. Time has a way of doing that, especially when it’s filled with so many moments worth holding onto.
We find ourselves, once again, feeling incredibly grateful. Grateful for good health, for the ability to travel as we do, and most of all, for the amazing people in our lives who make all of it so meaningful.
“Who would have thunk?” Tom says.
Be well.
