Trial by fire; zodiac edition
I was sitting in Abbotsford International Airport, about 20 minutes before boarding my first of 3 flights, wrapping up a call with Scotiabank to finalize my mortgage for Yellowknife. Possession day was 5 weeks away, and in 24 hours, I’d be touching down in Aberdeen, Scotland. From there, a couple days later, boarding the Quark Expedition Ultramarine for almost 2 weeks to sail further north than I’d ever been in my life.
I didn’t know what to expect of Scotland, or this entire cruise. I’d barely had time to think about it. For the week before flying out, I was sleeping on yoga mats on the floor of my dad’s place, painting, cleaning and packing the final few boxes of his life before he’d leave forever for the Philippines.
Retirement, at last.
My flights over took me through sunset, the northern lights, sunrise, way too much time in Heathrow, and a second sunset. I fell in love with Aberdeen. European grocery stores, twilight walks, daytime walks - accidentally to the next village down the coast in one instance. Grassy cliffs and fields blowing in the wind, hills of yellow flowers and charming neighbourhoods at every turn. Dolphins and seals visible from the harbour and cliffs. It was heavenly. I loved every second.
“Everyone’s a birder. Some of you just don’t know you are yet.”
Our first night on board the Ultramarine started with, of course, endless safety briefings, but also some news that a little storm was headed to us which gave such little hope of being able to go ashore to Fair Isle, we were instead making a last minute decision to try North Ronaldsay instead, where we ultimately were able to anchor down, zodiac to shore, and spend as much of the day as the weather would allow us.
I chose the long bird walk, because as Mark, our amazing, amazing bird expert expedition guide on board said to us our first night, “Everyone’s a birder. Some of you just don’t know you are yet.” And I loved it. I needed little convincing. I was hooked. Ready to give up a life of aurora chasing for birding, until he told me there’s no money in it either.
So instead of heading back to the ship via the zodiacs over increasingly rough seas we were warned about the night before, I and one other, literally, ran over to the 173 year old lighthouse to climb the couple hundred steps inside up to it’s balcony. That was one of the coolest experiences I think of my life. The wind up there made it nearly impossible to get all the way around the deck, but the views were breathtaking. But finally, windburnt, sweaty and out of breath, I ran back to the shore to begin what would become a trip long habit of being on the last zodiac back to the ship. Waves crashed up over the bow of the zodiac and over our heads. I understood without a doubt why waterproof clothing, head to toe, was mandatory, and not just recommended.
