I remember the first time I saw the Atlantic Ocean. It was in Willmington, North Carolina. As any great mountain range would, the Atlantic Ocean speaks a different language than the Pacific. Nothing overtly different about its appearance, just its presence.

When we moved out of the desert, and down through the Andes we arrived to the waves of the Pacific crashing on the shores of Coquimbo,Chile. To feel the air of the Pacific, with hints of aqua blue in the water, and rugged-rock formations just off the coast line…hearing its mighty voice again made me smile at our reunion – just as I did the first time I saw the Atlantic ocean.

This was as far south as this journey would take us.