It’s a beautiful morning, with the horizon gently dipping above and below the midpoint of my cabin window. (Not so good is when the horizon disappears and reappears from view.) Sun’s out and a red-footed boobie, as Warner identifies it, lazily cruises above the calm seas. Unlike the rough crossing from the North American west coast, there are plenty of small islands on this side of Hawaii as we steam to Japan so we’ve been seeing a good number of sea birds. The ship’s making tracks and, so far in three days of the crossing to Japan, it’s been much easier going. I hope it keeps up. I’ve been trying not to sign on to too many activities but I do have an extended family group of five students I look forward to meeting with this week as well as a French Club tonight and a group from Tennessee later this week. This 11-day stretch of days is the longest interval where we’re on ship and it is a critical time for students to make progress on their reading and research. We’re all promptly back in the swing of the intensive daily schedule. Upon arrival in Japan, land touring will go on from one East Asian country to the next.

I knuckle down to finish writing my journal notes and try to learn how to compress photos so I can finally send bits of journal to family and friends tomorrow. I am beginning to realize how quickly the months will go by and be gone. I am grateful to my friend Nancy for the bound journal she gave me. Although the lap top in my cabin makes short work of writing, the bound journal has been invaluable for notes I’d otherwise quickly forget.

Our voyage has the theme of sustainability and Hawaii demonstrates what that means: A paradise with a great deal of tragedy in its history that is expensive to live in and difficult to travel through in frequent traffic jams. Shacks and slums on exquisite beaches where both “homeless” and “houseless” live because, even working fulltime, too many can’t make enough to pay rent. At the same time, billions of value in upscale oceanfront and hilltop homes.

I go up very late to the dining room deck to get hot water for a bedtime herbal tea. The students are out in force socializing en masse in the huge main hall. Out on the deck, though, it is still and quiet with the light of a beautiful full moon sifting through clouds and bouncing off the water. I go back for my camera and try to use one of the fancier settings to catch moonlight. Hardly.