WRITTEN BY ELLEN
ON THE SOUTH PACIFIC EXPEDITION FROM BAY OF ISLANDS TO TONGATAPU
There isn’t any way to truly describe the magic that is Minerva. A crescent shaped safe-haven amidst the miles of unrelenting ocean. She is otherworldly, like water rushing across the surface of Mars, leaving us awestruck by her immense beauty and the stories she must hold. As though the history of the ocean and those who came before us could be simply breathed in through the air around us. And as the waves crashed on her outer edge, I was reminded of all the balance necessary for a world like ours to exist. The ocean is beautiful and calm, violent and scary. A place of solace and cleansing and connection, but also a place of challenge and patience and perseverance. Mostly it’s a place of life – the canary in the coal mine giving us the pulse of this one sweet earth.
And even here on Minerva, hundreds of miles from civilization, we find evidence of human impact.
Photo credit: Ellen Reynolds
When we find ourselves endangering everything from the microscopic surface life to the creatures of the deepest seas, I question how good we are for this planet – how happy she might be to heal from all we’ve done. I like to imagine a future where we understand that we exist as part of an ecosystem, and not in spite of it. That our lands are not only ours to claim, but they belong to the spiders and bees and squirrels equally. That our oceans are not here to be conquered, but here to be seen and loved and honoured.
A future where we align ourselves with an understanding that all the world has to give is not inherently ours to take.
Mindful musical mantra: It’s Ok by Nightbirde
