I was a sophomore in college in San Diego with my birthday and the Christmas holidays just around the corner in December. My family had already moved back to South Florida from San Diego to be closer to family.  Since I was already launched in college, they thought it was the best time to move. We'd all enjoyed California; it gave us kids great opportunities and showed us a very different life.

My aunt Angela, who was always seen as the financially successful one in the family, had found love in, of all places, New Zealand where she lived and had married a Kiwi (which is what they call themselves down there) named Dave. Well, Dave was an avid sailor, and he and my aunt and their two daughters were sailing around the world for the first time as a family.

My aunt, a Dominican female who learned how to swim later in life out of necessity, wasn't too keen about the deep waters, but nonetheless, she was game to sail around the world with her husband and my two cousins, Ana and Nancy, who were five and two. She contacted me to say that they were docking in San Diego for a few days and they would like to see me for dinner. It had been some time since we were together, so I gladly accepted the invitation. I remember driving with my girlfriend at the time, Julie, to have dinner with them.  When we got to the sailboat, the first thing I remember thinking was, “Wow, it's bigger than I thought.” We jumped aboard and had a great family dinner and a wonderful evening. 

I asked Angela and Dave where they were headed after leaving San Diego. They were sailing to La Paz, the southernmost point in Mexico, a trip that would take about two weeks if all went as planned. Those who know me would imagine correctly that I was plotting how to join the excursion and make it back to school in time to start classes after the Christmas break. Two days later, I was packing to leave with them as they prepared to sail down the Baja California coast. They thought it was a great idea as I'd be able to help with the girls and assist in sailing the boat when needed. 

The day before we were to leave, I couldn't sleep because of my excitement and yes, nervousness.  I'd never been sailing - real sailing -  in international water with the potential to encounter like real pirates and the possibility of dying, like for real. The next day, I arrived at the dock super early, around 4 am because we needed to get a head start on the first leg of the trip. Julie dropped me off, and after a long-winded goodbye, she left me to my adventure on the Kea.

As soon as I stepped on Kea, Dave put me to work. "Take this and wrap that, and come down here, and here's what this does!" It was great!  I was a young stud, a football player and I was ready to work.  I saw it as part of my overall sailing experience. I was excited! My aunt and her two little ones were sound asleep in their bedroom while the men worked above deck.

It was pitch dark outside and we were ready to set sail. We raised the anchor and started navigating out of the marina, the San Diego waters, and around the biggest red buoys you can imagine.  It was foggy - as it normally is in San Diego before noon - we call this the marine layer and it always burns off before noon. Luckily, these buoys had red flashing lights on the top of them to tell the boats what to do and what side of the buoys to stay on. Thank goodness for those red lights because you couldn't really see the buoys until you got close to them, but you could hear the roar of the sea lions that congregated on them as if they were having important meetings.   All of a sudden, you would find the boat headed straight toward one of those huge floating red buoys with a bunch of sea lions piled on the base looking at you with their big black eyes.  It was an organized highway, just one on water.

After we left San Diego, we found ourselves in open water but it was still dark so you still couldn't see anything.  Dave says to me, "You can catch some sleep if you like", so I retired to my bedroom on the lower left-hand or port side of the boat. It was just big enough to make me feel like it was my own floating fort. It was kind of cool if you ask me. I had my own window and everything.

A few hours later, I heard Dave yell "Hey guys, come up and take a look", as if it was something not to be missed. We all came up on deck, looked around, what we saw was a sight that has been indelibly etched in my mind ever since. 

As the sun came up, our boat was surrounded by an army of California Gray Whales. Big ones - really big ones - and small ones (small being relative to a whale). It was a sight I will never forget. We all stood on the deck of the boat in awe of how marvelous these gigantic animals were and how they seemed to find comfort being near our sailboat. You see, whales are comfortable near sailboats because when seen from the bottom up, they look like a big whale and they are quiet without large engines.   Because we were sailing during the peak migrating season for the California Gray, we could expect to have whales as companions throughout our trip. Each year they take the same route through the waters off the coast of California to Bahia de Tortugas, off the coast of Mexico, to mate and this was our course as well. They do this annually because of the smell of the water. 

A day had not even passed and lessons of how amazing life is when you’re present and when you show up were already happening. Open yourself to the possibilities and life can and should be wide and deep. Some people say “evergreen”. I like to say endless with blue opportunities. Thank you, Kea.