Iceland: Day 1.5 -Night at Sea-

Captain Stoneface of Stoneface takes us on a journey through the dark waves, following the stars and maps in hopes of catching the elusive northern lights...

Night settled again 4 hours later. But we have to wait just a little while longer. For the real darkness to enter. Not only that our next adventure would take us out off the mainland and out into the icy waters as midnight crept in closer.

You stand on the dock behind Ani and me but stay relatively close as I snap a photo of the Amelia Rose before us. We are the first to arrive. On time and perhaps a little early, eager to get on board.

I look at you and smile the light just barely illuminating our faces. Out here its already hard to see. "Glad you could make it" I say softly. The waves gently lap against the wooden posts shimmering the distance city lights on the crescent tops.

You aren't sure what to say. Your eyes are on the Amelia Rose. Quiet and dark about to take us on our next small journey.

The hot chocolate we'd gotten earlier was already wearing off. "I'm sorry you missed it" I whispered my toes already cold in the tight breeze though soft chilled us both. Despite the layers we wore eventually it would creep in.

I extend your ticket to you. It's your entry onto the boat. "Welcome aboard" I say. You take the piece of paper in your gloved hands and Ani is already stepping up onto the boat assisted by a tall man who smiles but doesn't say anything to any one of us. His expression though sincere, his eyes tell a different emotion. One of seriousness, and preparation.

This, who we would later learn was Captain Stoneface of Stoneface. The man who would be taking us out to sea on his Amelia Rose.

We settled for spots outside on the third-floor traversing both a set of ladders and stairs. We wanted the best seats of course. Though in hindsight next time we will bring blankets and sit inside. Armed with our cameras though we sat and waited quietly for the other guests to arrive.

There is a second boat not too far from us. Lights bright and much larger featuring served dinner and a warm interior. There's a part of you that wonders what that experience was like instead of this one. This one was a bit hardier, rougher. Though there was a bar it would not open until we were out at sea.

There is a silence though that settles in the cold air. Even out here you can't hear the cars or hustle and bustle of the city just behind us. It's perhaps a 3-minute walk and you'd already be in the thick of Reykjavík's famed city night life.

But you won't find us there. If you're lucky enough to convince me perhaps but that is incredibly rare. Instead, you will find us here, doing these sorts of things. Going on one little adventure at a time.

A little beyond...

Guests continued to arrive and the boat became crowded. Still the third level remained relatively empty. It was just us and the bone chilling wind that watlzed across the wave tops. You lost track of time but somehow at some odd night hour we found ourselves at sea. A gentle hum of the boat was all there was paired with the lapping waves. You could hear and taste the icy water. Surrounded by the depths of a deeper than deep navy-blue blackness. Almost black but not quite. Reflecting the occasional shimmers of moonlight, you could see the natural asymmetrical curves winding their way on the surface and scattering against the cutting of the bow.

Fluffy hood overhead you watched as I continued in a brave or foolish errand of snapping photos with ungloved hands. It feels better to take photos this way. With my small Fuji-Camera that brought a nostalgic feeling with its touching older design. Though... none of the photos of the far-off distant shoreline were crisp. Light dancing in an angry frenzy against the lens by my shivering and rocked unsteadied focus as I looked at them.

You peer over my shoulder. There was a certain mythical charm to them now. "Guess we're still waiting" I said.

Your eyes bright with anticipation and a smile spread a bit. You were getting cold too. No matter what you did here in mid-December your nose and cheeks were going to get red.

The night continued on as updates from the command deck came. Along with a well-informed lesson on ancient navigation and astronomy. Yet still despite all the radars and readings from global satellites far above us. No lights ever came.

As the boat made its return through the Icelandic waters. Your eyes didn't look down from the sky. As others made their way inside to the bar and warmer comforts...

You stayed to simply try to count the stars....