This is not a cruise ship voyage for the students. They are working crew members and as such share all the responsibilities of the professional crew. Under the watchful eye of the captain and crew of the Lynx, the students learn helmsmanship, navigation, emergency procedures, tall-ship maintenance, watch standing, and most importantly, how to work as a cohesive, responsible team.

Student Log. By Karafaye Buffa. 6-19-04
Hello to everyone on land that is taking the time to read this. I hope that you guys are doing great. As for me, I'm having a lot of fun on the Lynx. I have learned a lot even though it's only the fourth day of this cool voyage. The first day of the trip wasn't so good because I had to wake up early, and I mean early. We had to eat breakfast and do some chores like clean the floor of the main saloon (which was pretty dirty). Some of the things I learned so far: the names of the sails, the name of the lines (ropes) and what the lines do. I also learned to steer the helm (wheel). One thing I don't like is the bow watch because it is dark and you can't see what is around you which is scary.

Student Log. By Jorge Alvarez. 6-19-04
One of the things that I miss is my family and my music. I have also seen a dolphin for the first time very close to me. I also saw a shark, whales, and jellyfish. One more thing I have learned that is very important to all sailors is to plot where you are, how many miles you have traveled, and how many miles you have traveled in one hour. Today at noon, I did a daily report, to see where we were and how far away Hawaii is. We are 1900 miles away from Hawaii. I can't wait to get to Hawaii so I won't worry about getting seasick anymore. It really sucks if you get sick. I also can't wait to take a nice warm shower. Well, that's all for now. I hope you didn't fall asleep reading this. Bye bye for now. Love Jorge Alvarez. Hope to see you soon.

6-21-04 Report McKenzie Lewis
"Welcome aboard" said the crew. As I first stepped foot onboard the Lynx. I was greeted then by what I had thought to be strangers. I gave a quick hello and went down to my bunk. I was happy to see I had the largest bunk in the salon. I had been so anxious to be on the boat and now I was finally there. Since my brother Mitchell Lewis had sailed from Hawaii to San Francisco I felt I was now completing the trip. The next morning we set sail. The crew didn't give any slack to any of the students. They had already taught me how to "sweat" which is a motion to get the slack out of a line. I particularly did not like this gesture and by the time my hands were purple as a plum from pulling on the ropes all the sails were up and we were cruising down the pacific. Other things I didn't really like to do were dishes, there not my favorite thing in the whole world but as the days went on I began to look at doing dishes, deck wash or polishing the brass not as work but as things to pass the time. The different watches took time to get used to but soon enough day and night didn't mean anything to me they were all the same. I know looked at the crew and other students as one. We were all one crew even though there were some major age differences when someone needed help no matter what I was doing I'd drop everything to help them. Everyone gives 110% and that's the only way the ship can sail. No one slacks off and when something is needed to be done it gets done right away.

Alex Heiney 6-23-04
My trip on the Lynx has already brought many experiences. I have learned how to distribute my time in a more orderly fashion, as well as think about my priorities on the ship and in life. I have also enjoyed the different opportunities only an 1812 ship can offer, such as climbing the rigging and having a hands on experience with lingo and sails. Even though I sometimes miss the luxuries of life such as showers and endless supplies of water and sweets, I still enjoy each day. The surprising good food and supportive crew do much more just reciprocate for my classes from land. The Lynx so far has been a great experience in my life and I am sure it will be until the end.

Helen Braswell 6-23-04
With every meal come peals of laughter. It is like one huge laughing commotion that continues on until we all disperse. We all have our moments of missing home and all of our luxuries (i.e. cell phone... that is a big one). I have learned a lot these past eight days; you can live without showers. Our brains are kept working memorizing ropes and lines and singing songs to ourselves on bow watch to stay awake in the middle of the night. This so far has been a wonderful experience and I am so glad I came.

Journal Entries:

While on board the Lynx, each student kept a journal to record their daily experiences. After undergoing a creative writing workshop, each student was required to write a polished journal entry about a specific aspect of their time at sea. The following are their entries.

Fishy Fishy
By Jorge Alvarez
At around 7:30 he heard the soft voice and steps of Helen coming down the hard wooden ladder saying, "we caught a fish." When his warm ear heard these words, his sleepy eyes opened as quickly as a gunshot.

He got up, took his green, warm blanket off his body that was still half-asleep, but excited to see the fish. He didn't care about how the weather was outside even though the night before it was fresh with warm wind. A little sprinkle in the warm air had hit his little brown face during night watch. He got up and grabbed his camera to take a picture of the first fish he had seen in the Pacific Ocean. He ran as quickly as lightning striking to the deck where he saw the fish surrounded by blood; it was the first fish his light brown eyes had ever seen before. The first thing that caught his sight was the blue and green skin that ran all the way through the fish's body and the size of the fish.

This moment was so special to him, almost like the first time you walk into a toy store. Water and the fish's red blood ran down the deck and Capt. Doug and Jared were so calm like nothing was happening. The shiny skin of the fish reflected in Jared's eyes when Capt. Doug poured cold, salty ocean water onto the soft skin of the fish to clean his blood. Capt. Doug started to cut the skin of the fish and tear it off with his hands like it was an orange. The face of Jared was so amazed that we had caught a fish, the first in 10 days. It was so incredible. You could imagine Jared's face was full of joy when he heard that we had caught a fish, the same way the little boy's face was when he saw the fish.

The way that everyone was talking about having fish for dinner made the little boy so happy and hungry. As Capt. Doug was taking the last piece of skin off the fish he asked what kind of fish it was and Jared said it was a dolphin fish, also known as Mahi Mahi, something the boy had never heard of.

The Light of Night
By Helen Braswell
My eyes flutter close as I listen to the waves splash up against the ship while lying in my assigned bunk. A deep sleep falls and the dreams begin. That is when someone in the dream starts repeating my name over and over: "Helen, Helen, Helen..." My eyes pop open with the sudden realization that night watch has come. There is no choice but to switch on the light and get ready.

The first few nights offshore are cold and dark, but the ocean life off the side of the boat is animated. Looking up at the dark sky as I climb out of the hatch, I scan for stars peeping through clouds. Seeing none I continue edging my way cautiously across the deck to the helm.

Before sitting, however, I glance quickly over the side, and a bright blue light catches my eye. Bio-luminescence surrounds the boat, giving it a breath-taking glow. There is a faint clicking sound that we decipher as dolphins and just then they leap from the water with a gentle splash.

Each dolphin has its own special glow as they swim through the water. I see the trail they leave behind and stare over the side until the bio-luminescence settles again. Though the sky is dark with no moon and no stars, the ocean is lit up in a whole new light.

Nights like this continue on for the next few days when suddenly one night the clouds disappear. The sky is now lit up with the moon and stars we are not accustomed to seeing. But just as the clouds leave so does the light of the ocean. While the sky was dark, the sea gave us company and a light to steer by. Now that our natural map has returned and we have an alternative light, the ocean light leaves until a more cloudy night.

For two weeks we are comforted by the lights of nature, but deep within ourselves is a calling for land and with that calling comes the lights of the land. Soon we will be overtaken yet again by a speck faraway and as we get closer the lights become plentiful and bright.

We were never alone on this vast, vast ocean. We have been guests to many creatures and by doing so they give us light. They give the comfort of not being alone for thousands of miles.

Sighing with tiredness from the four hour watch, I climb back into my bunk. My eyelids close again, only this time I see dolphins making trails of light in my mind and sleep falls.

View From the Sky
By Karafaye Buffa
The excitement of going aloft is amazing. The highest I had ever been on a moving boat was when I was hoisted on a Cal 40 in a boatswain's chair, which is similar to a seat harness. As I tightened the harness, I thought for a second about the risks I would be taking but I realized it would be worth it. I have never been afraid of heights, but when you are trying to be cautious while climbing the shrouds, which are lines that are leading from the top of the mast to the side of the boat,it is quite difficult when the people above and below you are shaking the steps you are depending on.

On the main mast you see baggy wrinkle which is a shaggy form that looks like a dead cat at first, but as you look closer you notice that it is a bunch of strands of line bunched together. The mast is at a slant and as you climb it feels as if all your weight is on one side and you are going to fall. Once you get to the top of the narrowing shrouds it feels as though you are going to miss a step, while at the same time it seems like a success because you made it that far.

As soon as you reach the cross trees and maneuver yourself into a comfortable position, the view is spectacular. No matter what direction you look, you see sky and water... a lot of water. The ocean is much larger than it already looks, just imagine what it looks like 80-90 feet higher. While I'm aloft I wonder about what is beneath the surface of the water and how deep the ocean is.

When you are climbing aloft on the fore mast it is a little more stable than when you are climbing aloft on the wide shrouds of the main mast. It was awesome seeing a pod of dolphins swimming in a synchronized way from an aerial view. When you approach the top you have to do a rather tricky move if you want to go any higher than you already are. You have to climb around the futtock shrouds which requires you to climb at a slant with your back facing the water. Once you reach the top you stretch your leg out onto the footrope and clip your harness in. As you sway back and forth, you see the boat rocking below you, and as it rolls over the swell you feel the roll almost ten times more than when your feet are on the deck. The further you climb out the yard arm, the more adventurous it is. While you are balancing on the foot ropes you can see the direction the ocean is moving in as you move with the powerful swells. How many people can say they climbed 90 feet on a moving boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and were higher than birds?

Soaring Above the Sea
By Alex Heiney 7-03-04
You can have an array of experiences on a ship such as the Lynx, and I consider going aloft one of the best ones. It's easy to forget the life you lived on land as you climb to the futtock shrouds, to become enveloped in how high up you are, how easy it would be to fall, and how cool it is. While on the footrope of the top yard, the highest point on the boat, you lose yourself in the beauty of the sea and all the life it nurtures, and if you are lucky, you might just catch a glorious sunset.

While on the rigging, it is not you who is in control, but the boat. You move with the boat, you do not cause the boat to move. If the boat hits a sudden swell, it is the boat that provides something to hold onto as you sway back and forth, as if you were riding a merciful yet powerful bull at the rodeo.

It feels good to get back on deck once you climb to the top, not because you are glad to be on solid ground, but rather you feel proud to have accomplished such a unique and dangerous feat. I feel going aloft is an experience everyone should get a taste of some time in their life.

Miles From Nowhere
By Mckenzie Lewis
Every night I am awoke by a crew member. "It's time for watch," they say. "I am up, I'll be there in five minutes," I reluctantly reply.

I get up, put on my clothes and my safety harness. Still half asleep, I walk on deck. Every night I ponder over how we are out in the middle of the ocean and eight or so people are awake at all hours of the night. I walk to the helm and my watch officer asks me to relieve "bow watch." I slowly inch my way around the moon-lit deck, dodging steps and ropes that could send me off my feet. Someone is always standing there, gazing at the dark horizon, looking for any other life forms besides us. "Here to relieve you," I say. "Nothing's going on, no ships, no whales," they reply and slip back into the dark to go to bed. Every night I try something new to keep myself awake, sometimes push-ups, singing, or I'll play mind games. This night I was wide awake so I leaned on the edge and became hypnotized by the glowing algae (bioluminescence).

Every carve of the ship going through the water brings radiant rays of light from the ocean life. Every two or three minutes I stare up at the horizon, looking for anything that could disturb our passage. I begin to feel thirsty so I quickly dash into the galley, make some nice hot chocolate, grab the cookies which were left for the midnight snack and go back to the bow. I feel a sense of relief as I stow the hot chocolate in my hands. I slowly sip at it and nibble at my cookie when the sky begins to clear. Millions of stars peek at me. I am probably the farthest away from anything I have and will ever be. Forty minutes have gone by and my hour is almost finished.