Bottle Overboard!

Maitri

It was a quiet morning aboard the Robert C. Seamans. Following a night of squalls, we were drifting near Kingman Reef, awaiting Captain’s orders on where to go next. After finishing up morning chores, I was tasked with being on bow watch, which entails keeping a sharp look out for any signs of traffic or foul weather. The sun had just risen, casting a fiery glow on the steely gray waters around us. I clipped into the bow and took in my beautiful surroundings. As I began humming a song, I leaned over ever so slightly to look at the sun’s reflection on the water. Suddenly I felt something snap. To my utter dismay, I realized that my water bottle, which was clipped into my harness, had broken loose of its string and fallen past the bowsprit straight into the ocean. I watched the hunk of red metal bob up and down and then begin to lazily drift along the port side of our boat. I quickly informed my watch officer Vuk of the situation and soon a group of my shipmates had gathered with a fish net valiantly attempting to scoop my bottle out of the water. But alas, the net fell a mere inch short and soon the bottle was completely out of our reach. As people began to give up and leave, Vuk said with a grave tone, “You have to let it go, Maitri,” and as if to rub (sea) salt into my wounds, added “Don’t do that again.”

Water bottle-less and defeated, I returned to the bow to resume my lookout. Since we weren’t sailing or motoring, I spent the next hour hopelessly watching my water bottle drift further and further away with the current. I reflected on my history with the bottle. Years ago, my mother gave it to me back home in India. The bottle travelled with me halfway across the world and together we experienced grueling college classes, hikes, beach days, tumbles into waterfalls with friends, camping trips, and most recently, a seafaring voyage across the Pacific Ocean. And now, it seemed my water bottle was ready to embark on a solo adventure. With my shipmates’ support, I began to imagine what its future would look like. Maybe it would sink to the bottom of the ocean and become the new shell of a gigantic hermit crab. Maybe it would wash ashore some remote island and be discovered hundreds of years from now by archaeologists who would use cutting-edge technology to decipher the tattered sparkly stickers on the bottle, reading “Of Course I’m a Feminist!” and “Go with the Flow.” Maybe it would be found by someone who had been stranded on an island for days and the freshwater in it would hold them over until their rescue helicopter arrived. At the end of the hour, I had somewhat come to terms with my loss. My role for the next hour was as helmsperson and I quickly swung into action as the Captain gave us new course orders. As I began to turn right, a glinting light in the ocean caught my eye. Was it just a wave crest? A trick of the light? I stared at the glint again and, could it be?

“It’s my water bottle!” I exclaimed.

Tanvi

After a long dawn watch shift, I had stayed to watch the sun spread over the sky while my beloved crewmates from A Watch took the helm. For the last hour, I had seen the grief in Maitri’s eyes as she mourned the loss of her water bottle. More than a container for fresh water, the distinctive red water bottle had come to symbolize so much more in its association with Maitri – a symbol of progressive ideology, a reminder of her love for the ocean, a key support for physical health. I had admired, too, how bravely Maitri had moved on from the bottle’s tragic demise, taking helm even through her pain. Maitri, who had given so much to us all in the last three weeks, had lost something important today.

When I heard her cry, I knew this was my chance to finally give back to Maitri, the boat’s font of generosity. Springing into action with my instincts honed from all our man overboard drills, I scanned the horizon for the water bottle till I saw the red spark that had drawn Maitri’s eye. I raised my hand and pointed at it. In the background, I heard Maitri beg Vuk to return for her water bottle. Finally, the stern Serbian relented and gave the fated order: “Ten degrees right rudder.” I kept pointing as the boat began to turn – back towards the water bottle, back towards hope once more. Even though my arm began to ache, even though my eyes burned with the sun, even though the three feet swells threatened to hide the bottle from view forever, I kept my whole body trained on the bottle. Steadfast crewmate Jessie kept my company even as our muscles burned. I called on all my training as a designated spotter in an emergency situation to keep me going.

I saw the bottle shift towards our port side and keeping a visual fix on where I’d seen it last, I sprang into action towards the science deck, the only place in the boat low enough to fish the bottle from the water with a net. There, I joined the esteemed JP and Nate Bears, engineers extraordinaire, already prepared with nets for retrieval. With bated breath, we watched the bottle bob towards us. It glinted in the sun. With the chaotic, turbulent waters of the ITCZ, every swell threatened to take it further away from us, not closer. But I kept hope because I knew everything the bottle meant. Finally, it came just close enough and with a mighty swoop, Nate scooped it from the water in one deft motion with a Zen-like calmness honed through his 5 am breathing exercises. He triumphantly held the water bottle aloft, plucked from Davy Jones’ blue clutches, and from the quarter deck I heard Maitri utter a shriek of victory. I could feel the joy in her heart and I was honored to have been a small part of it.

Quotes

“You know, ‘I said in jest, oh Maitri, you should go on helm and steer us to your water bottle, haha’ and then, she did” – Dakota

“Clearly if a man goes overboard, they can be saved”

“Maitri should not be trusted with a small child that is water bottle sized at bow watch” – Camille

“This is the best steering I’ve seen from Maitri the entire trip. A fine display of bottle, ship, shipmate, self.” – Shaili

“It’s symbolic of something.” – Regina

“Don’t make this a big deal.” – Captain Greg