The Coast Guard was true to their word and let us drop anchor a mile off shore at 11.45 a.m. Monday morning. We were foolish enough to think that we would be able to start bringing people off the Arctic Sunrise at that time. Instead, half a dozen officers boarded the ship, searched it and interrogated members of the crew. They weren't finished with us until 1.00 pm., so more people missed their flights. A few of us were able to reschedule for later in the day, and the rest flew out on Tuesday morning. The ship is still anchored, and the crew is trying to complete a million errands in preparation for the month long transit to Cape Town, which won't begin until Wednesday or Thursday.

I refuse to let a tropical storm or a government agency on a power trip ruin what otherwise was an incredible experience. We had a lot of great times onboard, and even when things got bad, that's when we laughed the most.

I learned how to drive a rigid inflatable boat, I spent a wonderful weekend in New York City and I got to experience a protest as a "protestee" rather than an activist. Over the last month, I was fortunate enough to get to know an unforgettable crew and it was a pleasure to work with all of them. I'd also like to give a shout out to the people in the office who have been providing support for this project on land. We couldn't have pulled it off without you.

I'm really proud of the work we did during this tour. The open boats, press conference and projections in Cape Cod generated a lot of support for the proposed offshore wind farm. We're all confident that it will become a reality as early as next year. Combined with the groundbreaking research conducted in Greenland and Lonnie Dupre and Eric Larson's polar expedition, Project Thin Ice 2005 has truly made a difference in the fight to stop global warning. Even though this project has come to an end, climate change work will continue.

A lot of the crew asked me if I would want to do another ship tour in the future. My answer is "absolutely". I just hope I'm lucky enough to get the chance again.

- Maureen

On Saturday morning, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and it was a beautiful day onboard the Arctic Sunrise. Tropical Storm Tammy was nothing but a bad dream, and we had finally woken up. Even the seasick gang had emerged from their bunks, blinking their eyes in astonishment at the expanse of calm, blue water and the hint of land in the distance.

We should have arrived in Miami on Friday, but the weather made that impossible. So we re-arranged our press conference for Saturday and knew we would have to scramble a bit to host our donor event and Open Boats on Saturday and Sunday. But the powers-that-be came together to make sure that didn't happen.

Miamarina at Bayside (a marina in downtown Miami operated by the City of Miami) never bothered to look at the depth of their berths. When they finally did, they found out that is was too shallow to have the Arctic Sunrise there. Scrambling at the last minute to find another spot, we came up empty handed.

Everywhere else was too shallow or occupied. If trouble bringing our ship to Miami sounds familiar, you probably remember the runaround we got in 2003, when the Justice Department put the entire Greenpeace organization on trial, threatening the right to free speech. A judge ultimately threw the case out of court.

Donor reception onboard? Cancelled. Press conference to oppose offshore drilling? Cancelled. Open Boats? Cancelled. There were a lot of disappointed Floridians this weekend, and all of us onboard feel terrible about the turn of events. We have a lot of passionate, dedicated supporters in Miami that helped us pull off an incredible image in 2004, and we were all looking forward to seeing them again.

Our Tax Dollars at Work

So plan B was to dock in Fort Lauderdale. We changed course and set off for our new destination and that's when the Coast Guard stepped in. They informed us that they needed 72-hour notice for a destination change so we were NOT allowed to enter Fort Lauderdale and we had to stay 12 miles out to sea. If we disobeyed these instructions, we would be fined up to $50,000 and the Captain could be sentenced to up to five years in prison.

I am ashamed and embarrassed by my government (it's not the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last). It doesn't serve any purpose to make us jump through these hoops. The international crew has traveled to every corner of the world, and the only time they get hassled is in the United States and it happens EVERY time.

I am constantly amazed by the amount of time, energy and money the Bush administration spends on reinforcing the fear of terrorism on the American people. If Americans knew that the agencies designed to protect us from danger waste their time on silly games like this one, I'm sure they would be as furious as I am.

The Coast Guard even told our ship agent that they were "throwing the book at us." So, count up all the hours wasted by the Port of Miami, Port Everglades, the Coast Guard, the Broward County Sheriff's Office, and even the park rangers at the lovely state park where we were to host our donor event, and wonder how your tax dollars are spent to fight the real terrorists.

Meanwhile, there are 14 people waiting to get off this ship and return home, and there are two crewmembers in Miami waiting to get onboard. The Arctic Sunrise is scheduled to depart for Cape Town on Monday evening and a 30-day supply of food needs to be bought, six weeks of recyclables and trash need to be disposed of and Tweety - the Greenpeace helicopter - needs to be brought back onboard.

We thought we would be in port three days ago, so we are running low on provisions (not to mention all the food that ended up on the floor and the walls during Tammy). Some activists from the D.C. office came down to help with the supporter events, and they are not even allowed to bring us out supplies from land. We are also just far enough to be out of cell phone range, so people can't speak to their loved ones or make new arrangements since they'll be arriving home days late.

We can see Fort Lauderdale from our port side (it's 12 miles away...at least). We are so close and yet so far. Our latest information is that we will be allowed to drop anchor one mile off the coast (whoopee) at 11:45 Monday morning. Then, we'll use our rigid inflatable boats to take the people leaving the ship onto land and bring new crewmembers and supplies onboard. Of course, we've already missed our flights and Monday is Columbus Day so all the other flights are booked. We still don't have any real idea of when we'll get home.

-Maureen

By noon Wednesday, everyone (that wasn't sea sick) was having a few laughs at the state of affairs. The ship was rolling and pitching, and people were stumbling down the alleyways like they were drunk (not that we know what that feels like...). It was deemed too dangerous for the cook to prepare lunch, so we all took turns with ramen noodles in the microwave.

It was impossible to get any work done in the afternoon, so some retired to their cabins for a rare nap and others of us gathered in the lounge for a movie. We all agreed it would be cool to watch The Perfect Storm, thinking that the ship's movement would provide an added effect to the film - which it did (fun fact: the bar that the fishermen and their families gather in was actually shot in an old Greenpeace office we had in Gloucester).

For dinner, the cook still wasn't able to cook so he reheated and laid out a buffet of leftovers including spaghetti, mashed potatoes, fruit and ice cream. The first two crewmembers got their dinner without incident, and third and fourth in line were Mathew (assistant cook) and Olivier (second mate). A wave came as the two were preparing their plates, so they held onto a slate of wood on the countertop until it passed. But instead of keeping the pair steady, the wood broke free and sent Matt and Olivier sailing across the messroom floor. Not far behind them was the entire buffet the cook had set out. That's when things took a turn for the worse.

The messroom was officially declared a disaster area. At the height of the cleaning, there were probably eight of us trying to throw away the food and mop up the remains. Another particularly big wave hit and Barbara (deckhand) was slammed into a table. I then slammed into Barbara and the wave began to swing back the other way. I saw Eric (explorer/deckhand) coming for us at high speed, but I wasn't able to get out of the way in time. He knocked our legs out from under us and the three of tumbled to the ground. Spectators said it was like Eric was a bowling ball and Barbara and I the pins.

Tammy is a tropical storm that formed just off Florida's east coast early Wednesday, dropping rain into north Florida, Georgia and South Carolina. We changed our course to avoid going straight through it and have been dancing around the outskirts of it for a few days now. I don't know many specifics of the storm, but we've been feeling windspeeds of about 60 knots and our ship has rolled more than 60 degrees a few times. The maximum number the ship can register is 70 degrees.

A Smelly, Hungry, Bruised Crew

Showers are off limits, and are needed more than ever since most crewmembers have been rolling around in food. Everytime we finish mopping up an area, someone else wipes out and spills the bucket of mop water all over and we start again. Chris (campaigner) was trying to help in the galley and had a collision with the dishwasher. Rumor has it you can see the brand name of the dishwasher imprinted on his leg.

I've lost count of the number of people I have seen bounce off walls, ejected from chairs or tossed off couches. The only people onboard without black and blue marks are the ones that have been holed up in their rooms with sea sickness. Every time someone falls down someone else chirps "looks like you forgot to pay your gravity bill" and for some reason, even after 100 times, we find it funny.

The one comforting thing onboard is a visit to the bridge. It's the scariest view, and because it's at the top of the ship, it rolls more than anywhere else. But whether it's the captain, first mate or second mate at the helm, it's comforting to see how at ease they are in the midst of the drama. They chuckle at your suggestions that the situation is anything anyone should be worried about and tell stories about "real" storms they've seen over the years.

I don't think I would mind if this is the worst weather I ever experience while at sea, and my guess is most people onboard feel the same way. We're all looking forward to arriving in Miami, but everyone is trying to keep each other's spirits up and we can't wait to tell our friends about our skirmish with the Atlantic Ocean.

-Maureen

Every once in a while you hear on the news about some cruise ship with a bout of food poisoning. Hundreds of guests are confined to their rooms with a bucket lying next to their bed or are elbowing each other out of the way to make it to the bathroom first. I can't imagine what a horrible scene that must be, but I have a feeling it's pretty similiar to what's happening onboard the Arctic Sunrise at the moment (although on a much grander scale). We are located just off the coast of Georgia and feeling the affects of Tammy.

People are SEA SICK. Some started feeling woozy as early as Monday afternoon, but by Tuesday morning they were out for the count. I think the worst victim was Beverly (D.C. office) followed closely by Taleen (D.C. office), Matt (assistant cook), Andrea (prizewinner), Allison (D.C. office) and Denise (prizewinner). Matt learned the hard way that if you need to throw up over the side of the ship, don't do it into the wind or you get back an unpleasant surprise.

By Wednesday morning Allison and Taleen had made an impressive recovery, but the other four aren't showing much improvement. Some are using a patch, others dramamine and others motion sickness wristbands. Apparently there is an old sailor's antidote for seasickness: put a rock in your shoe. Your foot will hurt so bad that you don't notice the nausea. I don't think anyone has tried that one yet.

It's no surprise that so many are sick, the ocean has been VERY choppy and the ship is ROLLING mercilessly. For those of us who feel ok, the ship has become an obstacle course with danger at every turn. Walking down the alleyways, going up the stairs and even sitting in a chair is a challenge. Since I sat down to write this, a wave carried my chair all the way to the port side of the office and then sent me hurtling toward the starboard side where I was caught by Chris (campaigner). Taleen wasn't as lucky. She ended up sprawled under the desk, completely hidden from view, laughing hysterically.

Boo

Afterwards, I went down to the mess to have a snack. I opened the fridge and half the contents came spilling out. As I started to clean it up, a cabinet burst open and two glasses flew out, crashing into the opposite wall and shattering all over the kitchen. As this was happening, the condiment jars secured to the kitchen table were rattling and the dishes in the sink were clanking. I felt like I was in a bad horror movie where a haunted house is letting the new owners know that they are not welcome.

A few seconds later, three or four people came running into the kitchen to see what had happened and found me crouched in a corner holding on for dear life. They took one look at the mess in the mess (ha ha) and asked me, "What did you do?"

After I explained that I did nothing and that the mess was haunted, they helped me clean up. As we were sweeping, Barbara (deckhand) rushed into the mess looking for ice. Taleen had banged her leg pretty badly on a door and this time she wasn't laughing.

We're going against the Gulf Stream and during one four-hour shift last night we had only travelled 30 miles. It's expected that the conditions will not improve for at least another 24 hours, so there's no doubt there will be more excitement to come.

-Maureen

It was exciting for me to board the Arctic Sunrise in New York City. The Arctic Sunrise is a working ship and there is so much going on everywhere. There is a lot to be done and everyone does their part in keeping things together.

I was surprised at how rugged the ship actually is - it takes some effort to keep up with everything. It's hard to keep a balance onboard.

Everyone onboard has been wonderful, very friendly and open-minded. There is an international crew which provides for a diversity of thought and conversation. Some have talked about finding a "rhythm" that goes along with everything. It's true, there is a rhythm to the ship, the crew and the ocean - and it's been nice to be given the chance to search for that.

I look forward to seeing up close everything that makes sailing a ship possible.

-Andrea
Project Thin Ice Competition Winner

I'm still in a stupor; I can't believe I'm actually on the Arctic Sunrise! It's so strange for me, since I don't know anybody, but very thrilling at the same time. The crew is great, very friendly and outgoing. It's literally like a League of Nations here - I'm happy to meet so many people from so many different places.

I wasn't sure what to expect when it came to arrangements, food and work. I was hoping to lose weight while here, but I guess that ain't happening, since the food is amazing! The cabins are like closets and I happened to be assigned the "dove" room (the container) right next to the hold. I ended up getting the top bunk, which made me a little scared because I'm such a klutz, but I have been managing well so far with that.

Unfortunately, I don't have a porthole and, despite how hot it gets on the ship, I was actually a bit cold during the night. The bunk was more comfortable than I thought and when the lights are out, you can't see your hand in front of your face. I thought only caves were that dark! My cabin mate is Matt (assistant cook) and he seems pretty cool.

I completely forgot that the outlets on this ship are European, so I went into Chelsea to get an adapter. Hayden (from the D.C. office) warned me that it might blow out my cell phone charger...and it did. Thank God for CVS, I need that charger so I can actually have enough power to call my mother on my way back home to New Jersey this Saturday.

Working Onboard

On Sunday, we had an Open Boat. I met many great, interesting people. It was very nice to see so many supporters and to know that you're not alone in this fight to save the planet.

I'm usually pretty good when it comes to motion sickness, but I didn't want to chance it. So I took one Dramamine pill a half an hour before we departed from Chelsea Piers (even though you're supposed to take it an hour before movement). So far, so good! Since I'm such a spaz, I have to be extra careful on the stairs (they're pretty steep and narrow) and really watch where I'm going, especially when the ship is actually moving. The weather has been beautiful and sunny (yup, brought my SPF 50 sun block so I can stay nice and pasty).

On Monday the crew started making a banner and repainting the ship (which is done all the time). I found it kind of funny that none of us females knew how to deal with a sewing machine much, but Erkut did. The banner will be used to protest offshore drilling during a press conference in Miami.

I'm finally retaining some of the names of the crew. I'm much better with faces than with names! They have all been very helpful and so nice; I really wish I could stay on longer, so I can get to know them better.

Overall, I'm digging this experience big time. I'm so happy to be here; this is an experience of a lifetime.

-Denise
Project Thin Ice Competition Winner

Including both receptions we hosted, nearly 1,000 New Yorkers came onboard the Arctic Sunrise this weekend. For the Open Boats we held on Saturday, I acted as tour guide (a big promotion from greeter!). I think I did a pretty good job for having been onboard three weeks and only had to make up a few of the answers to the questions visitors asked me Judging by the droopy eyelids and incoherent attempts at conversation of the crew today, I think I can safely say everyone enjoyed their time off in the city.

Today we begin the transit down to Miami, which should take four days. That means I have 96 hours to brush up on my Spanish which I studied in high school and college. But if the locals would like to have a conversation with me in spanish about the alphabet, days of the week, months of the year or the numbers one to 100, I am ready to go right now.

Eight women joined the ship this weekend for the transit down to Miami, giving the ship a sorely needed boost of estrogen. Six of the women are from the Washington, D.C. office and will be helping out the crew as needed.

Allison	Beth	Beverly
Jess	Lisa	Taleen

The other two women are winners from the Project Thin Ice competition. They earned a spot on the ship for encouraging their friends to take action to stop global warming.

Andrea

Denise

Welcome aboard, ladies.

P.S. We said goodbye to Maarga (crew administrator) in New York. Happy trails!