The Calmness of the Open Sea

There’s something about staring out at the open sea that makes everything else feel small. The endless stretch of blue, the gentle waves rolling beneath the ferry—it’s the kind of view that makes you stop and just breathe.

Just off the coast of Roscoff, on the way back to Plymouth, I found myself lost in thought, gazing at the water. But as you look out, you can’t help but wonder—what’s below? How much life is moving silently beneath the waves? Whole worlds exist under there, unseen and unknown. Fish darting through the currents, creatures we’ve never even discovered, the vastness of the deep stretching further than we can imagine. It’s humbling, really.

The ocean doesn’t care where you’re coming from or where you’re going. It just is—vast, powerful, and strangely calming. Watching the sunlight dance on the surface, with only the occasional gull breaking the silence, it’s easy to forget the to-do lists, the daily worries, and even what time it is. Out here, it’s just you, the water, and the endless mystery beneath.

No rush. No noise. Just the horizon stretching on forever.