Entering Iona 
Michael The skies were just widening with the late-afternoon light as our little boat slipped into the Sound of Iona. We'd been on the water for five days -- we'd seen castles perched on barren cliffs and wild, dramatic seascapes -- but nothing we'd yet encountered had prepared us for the holy glow that filled the sky as we sailed in to dock at Iona. No one said a word. Yet we each sensed that this might be the place to yield the inner secrets we'd come to Scotland to find.
Iona. For more than 1,400 years a place of solemn worship. Burial ground of the great kings of Scotland, from Kenneth MacAlpine to Malcolm III, perhaps even Macbeth. Island where the sacred Book of Kells is thought to have been started. And the centerpiece of this voyage of eight friends -- eight Fellowship students -- who were as much in search of themselves as of any charted port along the majestic Inner Hebrides.

I wasn't entirely certain how I found myself on this adventure. I'd only been in the School a few years, and I'd only been on a sailboat twice, on a pair of afternoon spins across a pair of breezy fishing harbors. The thought of eight days on a 40-foot boat in the whipping waters off the coast of Scotland was both exhilerating and frightening. Marc Bouriche, however, who founded the Walt Whitman Sailing Society, convinced me that the experience would be unforgettable, so I set off to meet my seven shipmates on the Isle of Skye.