Hours, days, weeks, years spent at sea, much of it on the bridge of an old diesel powered submarine that had been extensively modified for cold war operations. The best part of a bridge watch was the dolphins. There was an occasional giant sea turtle. Whales spouted in the distance. Flying fish were plentiful but boring. When I was officer of the deck, in charge of the three-member crew on the bridge, it was almost possible to forget about the 77 other crewmen below decks, and to pretend the three of us were in the world’s largest small boat, just us and the sea.