Over the course of a week, on the 35-meter yacht Matina, our senior class of thirteen traveled through eight islands of the Cyclades. I could tell you what happened on each island, what our itinerary was, how beautiful every person and place was. But what is most important about the trip was that we went where the winds took us. There were times mid-sail at sea that we could look around and see nothing but waves and more water past that. Sometimes the boat would rock and I would end up scrambling out of bed at six in the morning, stumbling through the boat to get to the deck, heaving in breaths of cool air and drinking ginger ale.
On the toweled cushions on that deck, sometimes I would fall asleep and someone would come and place a blanket over my bare, wind-chilled legs. We did meet great people and found beautiful little spots on these islands that for that fleeting moment we made ours. For more hours than I could have imagined we spent in the water, not minding the pruny fingers, simply floating or diving. At the end of each day though, we came back to the long wooden dining table at the back end of the boat, and as the sun set, we shared food and stories of our day, our fondest memories and the magic of being together for perhaps the last time.
That is what I remember most, three months later. I remember us, my family doing what we do best - moving forward, going where the winds take us. ♦