The Art of the Pivot: Solar Eclipses, Adjustments, & the Joy of Missing Out

Construction. Traffic. Congestion. National and regional holidays. Mondays. Siesta. Vehicle mishaps. Weather.

Clouds coming in at the last minute as a solar eclipse approaches totality.

Yep, it can and does happen.

Apart from siestas (culturally non-existent in the States over the age of five?!), we tend to take that first list in stride in our daily lives. But somehow, when you are on vacation, it is harder to let go.

The August 12 Solar Eclipse Pivot

We recently finished our 13-day solar eclipse cruise, during which that cloud scenario is exactly what played out. Coordinates were carefully chosen—we were positioned alongside four other ships in the area in search of optimal viewing.

The beauty of experiencing an eclipse at sea is the complete absence of mountains or buildings. For an eclipse happening at a low angle, being out on the open water is incredible—unless, of course, the clouds roll in.

So, what did we get?

We enjoyed some amazing presentations prior to the eclipse, courtesy of a guest astronomer speaker and of Production Stage Manager Chazz, who wrote and shared them purely out of passion rather than job requirement. We also witnessed one of the most unusual sunsets as the partial eclipse continued while the sun dipped below the horizon.

I recognize how fortunate I am that this was my third solar eclipse at sea. My first was also aboard Oosterdam in November 2012 off the coast of Australia, and my second was in 2016 aboard Volendam off Indonesia. For those first two, it was fun to be out on deck as part of the crowd, where the clouds magically parted just enough to reveal totality.

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For this one, our balcony faced the eclipse directly, so Dirk and I enjoyed a semi-private viewing—sharing the moment with the bridge team right next door to our cabin.

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Because the eclipse occurred early in the itinerary, guests still had a lovely Mediterranean cruise ahead with highlight ports like Barcelona, Rome, and Bari.

Going back to the initial list—adjustments happen everywhere. You can complain and be miserable, or you can go with the flow. I had research photos to capture in port, but when a museum closes the exact wing you need or construction blocks the vista you planned to photograph, you get creative and adapt.

Our last port was Kotor, where I joined a Boka Bay catamaran sail that ended with beach time. A few hiccups along the way meant less time on the sand for some guests. One waiter lost a food order, leaving a group upset that a replacement wouldn't arrive before departure. Seeing this, nearby guests offered to share their charcuterie platter, and soon others chimed in with their own dishes. I loved witnessing that spontaneous pivot and camaraderie.

Navigating Wellness: The Check-In

Dirk and I are well past the halfway point of our virtual 500-mile End-to-End Nile River walking challenge. What I love about this challenge (beyond the travel-themed accountability) is that charitable milestones are built right in—a meal is donated at 50%, and trees are planted along the route at regular intervals. Movement AND giving back = a clear win.

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Perhaps most importantly, this voyage brought a mental pivot. I lead a strange life—half in the cruise world, half out. My LinkedIn feed is perpetually confused, unsure whether to serve me maritime updates or university administration content. Sailing with Dirk as a spouse on board is an incredible privilege, and it is always lovely to reunite with former colleagues and friends who greet you with a warm hug. My heart smiles when a crew member says, "Miss Christina, I miss hearing your voice," leaving me to wonder if I should be working on ships again.

On this cruise, after nearly eight years, I pivoted from FOMO to JOMO. Coming from a place of the Joy of Missing Out—rather than fear—is deeply freeing.

Missing out on seeing totality this time around didn't ruin the cruise; it framed it. When you stop chasing the "picture-perfect" expectations of a trip, a career, or a specific moment, you gain the space to appreciate what actually happens instead: the unexpected sunsets, the generosity of strangers sharing a charcuterie board, and the simple joy of being present right where you are. I didn't get totality, but I got a lot. I am in the right place, doing what I am meant to be doing.

I’ll be back with you in a few weeks.

Bon Voyage & Bon Appétit!