The first time I ever got on a big ship was when I was seventeen, on a school trip in my second year of high school. We took a ferry from Busan to Jeju, spending a full day on board. As far as I remember, that was my first experience. As we were approaching land, the water became shallow and the ship started to rock, and I remember feeling quite seasick for about an hour before we got off. So on this trip too, I worried that I might feel really sick when we arrived, but still, with excitement, I boarded the Spirit of Tasmania.
I’ve never been on a luxury cruise, and I’m not sure if I ever will be (the idea of having to stay on a ship for a long time scares me), but the Spirit of Tasmania was still quite large and impressive. It can carry 1,400 people and load up to 500 cars. Built in Finland in 1998 and operating between Melbourne and Tasmania since 2002, I wondered if, in a way, this ship is also an immigrant. Like me, living settled in someone else’s country? Nice to meet you, friend.
There may be bigger and more luxurious ships now, but I thought that for people boarding this ship nearly 30 years ago, this must have felt like a luxury cruise. It felt solid and well put together—like a distinguished gentleman working as a senior model. Ah, right, she’s a she. Then maybe a strong, dignified grandmother?
Friday, 20 March 2026. We take the overnight ferry at 10 pm to Tasmania. A 14-day journey that will begin and end in Devonport. This ship marks the beginning. We were told to arrive two hours early, so we hurried and got there around 8 pm, received our boarding passes, and checked in. But after that, the waiting time was too long. It wasn’t just “too long”—it was toooooooooo long. If they had just told us roughly when boarding would start, we could have had dinner at the terminal café, gone to the bathroom, done anything. But worried that if we got out of the car and boarding suddenly started, it would become awkward, we just stayed in the car, anxious and fidgeting. I don’t even sit this long at work, but my back started to hurt. Seriously.
After a long wait, we finally boarded. As soon as I threw my luggage into the cabin, I ran to the shop and ate something that was either a very late dinner or a midnight snack, washed up, and lay down to sleep.
I hoped I wouldn’t feel seasick when we arrived in the morning. But no—arrival wasn’t the problem. The whole way there, I felt nauseous, the ship rocking and swaying like Shin-chan dancing. Lying down, I couldn’t fall into a deep sleep, but I didn’t fully wake up either. I’d wake up thinking, “Is this seasickness, or is my stomach upset because I ate so late and went straight to bed?” then drift back into a shallow sleep, wake again thinking, “Is this seasickness?” “Am I asleep, or am I awake?” and fall back into that same shallow sleep again. It became an endless loop. After some time passed, I got up around 6 in the morning, came to my senses, had some coffee, watched the morning sea, and saw the sunrise.
When I was seventeen and took a big ship for the first time, the closer we got to land, the worse the seasickness became. But on the Spirit of Tasmania, I realised that the closer we got to land, the less I felt it. All night, I kept wondering whether this bed I was lying on was just a bed or a waterbed, whether I was seasick or just feeling unwell. But by morning, the ship wasn’t rocking at all, and my stomach felt completely fine. Maybe it’s the difference between the seas of Korea and Australia.
Anyway, Saturday, 21 March, 9 am. We got off the ship and our car’s wheels touched the ground in Devonport. The journey finally begins. Thanks to this immigrant ship from Finland, we made it safely from Melbourne to Devonport. Thank you, Spirit of Tasmania II. See you again in two weeks.
People say it’s important to experience things for yourself. And I think people tend to believe that once they’ve tried something, they understand it well. At least, I must have been like that. My past experience of being on a big ship wasn’t entirely useless, but it was completely different from this one. It was a voyage that taught me that I shouldn’t so easily conclude, “I’ve done this before, so I don’t need to do it again,” or “I already know this from before.” What else have I dismissed like that, thinking I already knew because I had done it once before? Maybe I’ve been carelessly overlooking many things that I could have experienced and felt in new ways. Just as yesterday’s weather is different from today’s, the ship of when I was seventeen and the ship of 2026 were very different. Or maybe I’m the one who has changed.
And so the journey begins.
