The mizzen topmast staysail luffs in the gentle evening breeze while lazy ocean swells harass students gathered on the fantail, sextants in hand, receiving information about tonight’s stars. Topics revolve around finding sextant error and proper hip swinging technique in order to find the exact elevation of the stars in the night sky. Out here, somewhere along the 40th parallel, we are on our own. Weeks separate us from continents and the security of land. In a place as humbling as the North Atlantic, the stars are welcome stowaways from home. Oftentimes, before the stars step out, the sun lights up the sky with fiery enterprise. It is a true burden to watch golden hues tangled with lavender shades as cover fee to the stars. Our stars guide us across the ocean and remind us of home. That is why I chase sunsets.