On the way to Bermuda, I passed under the Delaware Memorial Bridge -- the "the world's longest twin suspension bridge."

As photo opportunities go, the bridge was hard to resist.

A couple of days after going under the bridge, I found myself inside the ruins of an unfinished Bermuda church:

Work began on the church in 1874, but ended when the church was beset by financial difficulties and a schism in the Anglican congregation.

From the looks of the photo, I'm behaving like a Rasputin ne'er-do-well -- while the church splits into pieces:

But looks can be deceptive. Obviously, that church need not worry about today's schism, as the fact that it was never completed moots the issue of same sex marriages being performed there.

I took the next couple of pictures in a very old, very spooky cemetery which overlooks the Atlantic ocean.

Signs of voodoo, maybe Santeria (or perhaps some form of animism?) were present. A dead chicken appeared to have been killed ritually, in apparent alignment with a bizarre statue of a headless chicken placed atop one wall of the cemetery, and a pair of shoes on the opposite wall. I don't understand the significance (if any) of these items, but there I was.

Later I took this picture of a passion flower blooming at night:

I was told they open only once. According to Wikipedia the passion flower not only has psychoactive properties, but an interesting symbology:

"Passion" does not refer to love, but to the Passion of Christ on the cross. In the 15th and 16th centuries, Spanish Christian missionaries discovered this flower and adopted its unique physical structures as symbols of Crucifixion. For example: the 72 radial filaments (or corona) represent the Crown of Thorns. The ten petals and sepals represent the ten faithful apostles. The top 3 stigma represent the 3 nails and the lower 5 anthers represent the 5 wounds. The flower has been given names related to this symbolism throughout Europe since that time. In Spain, it is known as Espina de Cristo (Christ's Thorn). In Germany it was once known as Muttergottes-Schuzchen (Mother-of-God's Star).

Anthers? I have only questhions!

But speaking of wildlife and passion, here's a picture of wild, passionate life aboard the ship!

Just looking at that makes my anther feel stigmatized! (But isn't it better to be stigmatized than politicized?)

Anyway, I made it back in one piece. Considering that the trip was accomplished entirely by ship, I'm glad that while in Bermuda I paid homage to Poseidon, known Homerically as the savior of ships.

Obviously, I can't claim that this accounts for the calm seas which accompanied the ship, but can anyone say that it hurt?

Poseidon, one of the most powerful gods, did not behave in what would today be considered a godly manner:

He had many love affairs and fathered numerous children. Poseidon once married a Nereid, Amphitrite, and produced Triton who was half-human and half-fish. He also impregnated the Gorgon Medusa to conceive Chrysaor and Pegasus, the flying horse. The rape of Aethra by Poseidon resulted in the birth of Theseus; and he turned Caeneus into a man, at her request, after raping her. Another rape involved Amymone when she tried to escape from a satyr and Poseidon saved her. Other offspring of Poseidon include: Eumolpus, the Giant Sinis, Polyphemus, Orion, King Amycus, Proteus, Agenor and Belus from Europa, Pelias, and the King of Egypt, Busiris.

....when we refer to a ship as a she, we are assigning to it a gender, and, incidentally, the same gender the Romans assigned, feminine.

Nor the very influential Lloyds of London, which has neutered ship gender in an obvious bow to political correctness.

Does every last goddamned thing in this world have to become political?

While none of this is new, it's probably worth pointing out that various offended people have decried "sexist" ship gender at Wikipedia, but there's a more interesting debate here.

However, here's a feminist classical scholar who disagrees with the stultifying grammatical view of conventional feminism:

A feminist note on the gender of ships: Because of the living qualities of ships, I like to refer to a ship as "she" rather than "it." While some may compare a vessel to a woman because of the supposedly capricious nature of both (although there seems nothing wrong with an occasional playful moment), I think that this view overlooks other qualities. Ships, like women, are beautiful, swift, intelligent, and powerful. I am glad to acclaim them as my sisters!