Swimmers emerging from frigid waters

Swimming in the Mediterranean

23 February. When I was packing my belongings last week before joining the ship, I was looking forward to doing a bit of swimming. I gleefully threw my bathing suit and sunscreen into my pack and promised my envy-ridden pals that I'd be coming back with a heck of a tan. But my hopes of soaking up the sun were dashed when I flew into Marseille, straight into the Mistral at the peak of her performance.

So a few days later, when First Mate Helen announced that we'd be conducting swimming practise from the ship, I thought about my little black bathing suit and gulped. I knew the ship's crew were tough as nails, but, hey, have a little pity!

But no worries, she said - we'd be properly insulated. And that we were: packed into dry suits that made us look like aliens from Planet Pumpkin (notice the three-fingered gloves).

Helen was absolutely correct, as always - we floated like buoys and were toasty warm, to boot. I do have new respect, however, for those stalwart activists who spend hours floating in those suits to prevent environmental wrongdoing.

While I may not return to the States with the tan I promised, I will be able to report with complete honesty that I went swimming in the Mediterranean.

-- Meghan

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