The refreshing water spraying on my face, the gentle wind sweeping me off my feet, the thrill of it all; preparing to embark on one of the most difficult traveling experiences known to man. It felt as if I waited my whole life for this moment; sailing around the world. Not only had dreamed of this moment my whole life, but I wanted to do it in honor of my father. His life was dedicated to the ocean, our home. Just a year ago before my father had gone on his exhibition, he had given me something to remember him by: classically, a husky puppy, in which I named chocolate (cocoa for short). Since then, I was obsessed with the idea of traveling around the world with chocolate, to feel as though my dad was with me. I could not contain my excitement for the adventure that was about to come. I was going to set out tomorrow at seven in the morning, and head north towards Europe which would be my first stop. I had full confidence in myself and achieving this life-long dream that I had my heart set on. I knew the ocean like the back of my hand. I was not only going to accomplish this for myself, but for my father. He was the only role model I had; and when I lost him, I was alone. The only mission I gave myself to get over his death was to win the war against the sea, which he unfortunately lost. I felt as though time was slower than a Monday in high school, that I would never get the chance to conquer the sea, but the day had finally come. I had the next 24 hours to prepare–I could hardly sleep. I abruptly awoke to the alarming clock radio next to my bed and although I was exhausted, I practically sored like a seagull to the boat with chocolate by my side. Untying the shafts, unattaching the buoy from the deck, and triple-checking over all the maintenance that could be an issue, I seemed to do these almost simultaneously. “You ready??” I exclaimed in a childish voice as I bent down to chocolate, rubbing her on the head. Walking towards the deck, grabbed the sail for balance, and pushed the boat towards the overbearing, dark sea. And I was off! I found myself, 12 hours later, precisely right on track and on my way to the coast of Ireland. I thought to myself that it was a good time to take a rest in order to prepare for the long night ahead. That was probably the worst mistake I could’ve made. I abruptly woke to find myself being thrown on deck from the rack because of the turbulence of the sea. The boat rocked back and forth in the outrageous waters and I gripped any stable object and hoped to stay onboard. Then in the distance, I could just make out the figure of my dad standing on the small beach, lamp raised to guide me home to him. Then he disappeared as the veiled night sky covered the last shred of light that was the moon. The rain spit at me and frightening lightning embellished the sky. The waves continued to rise and the powerful wind swept me into the sea. Every time I tried to grab air from the service, the ocean seemed to make it impossible for me. I could see the boat bobbing in the distance like a cork against the monstrous sea and for the first time ever, I wasn’t worried. The waves wheezed and whispered, slashing my face, and I felt so close to the end of my life. The boat was even farther away now, I could barely make it out in the the shape of it. I fell beneath the waves once more and suddenly everything went slow and calm. I sunk like a dead fish in the middle of a massive fish tank. I could see my father next to me smiling and reaching for my hand. It had been as if the entire world had stopped and I knew I was finally with him. I reached out stretching the tips of my fingers towards him. And I knew then, when he put his arms around me, I was home.