Location: St. Tropez
The crew of Argo awoke to a fiercely cold morning after a long night of arduous one hour night watches, rotating seemingly without end. The newly established watch teams took over the ship in the early hours, setting course to Saint Tropez. Watch teams viciously shook off the exhausting jet lag and the crew was just showing sprouts of sea legs. All new Argo sailors shared the same trait: novice. A long morning of ship work and travel reaped great results, for the crew reached the gleaming port of Saint Tropez. From the bay, the city seemed ancient, but the multimillion-dollar yachts changed that mindset. The crew marched up a steep path to try to locate the seemingly inexistent maritime museum. What the sailors found was a relic castle on that hill. After exploring and a failed plundering, the group dissented into the town of Saint Tropez. The genders separated as for the ladies wanted clothes and handbags and the men were on a tireless search for a store selling European spy equipment. Both ironically settled for lunch at different fine French restaurants — hours of wandering followed. After salt water ocean baths and briefing of the destination, the crew readied for the first legitimate sail. This first sail was also destined to be a night sail. After dinner, the new sailors eagerly awaited the challenge. I, in fact, am actually writing this under sail with only minimal nausea.