Ahoy, She-Lauren here!
Its 1:05 am and I’m currently on my 12am to 4am shift, listening to the boat burp and gurgle her way through the swell. Every time she lurches to port, it sounds like a glass being quickly filled with water – “WHEEEEERRRRRRRRK” followed by the crashing of the swell on the starboard side hull – “SHHHRISSSSHHHHHHHHH”. The ride has been quite lumpy bumpy so far (due to the swell) and sometimes I have mini-breakdowns when trying to cook food or do dishes. Imagine you are cooking your next meal. Now imagine cooking that meal inside a snow-globe being shaken by an overzealous kid. I have my moments.
Seasickness has run its course on me for the most part, and I can now move around quite well down below. Lauren B and I both have colds at the moment – ha! Sniffling and coughing our way to paradise. Quite the picture huh? It has its up sides though: Here is a list of things that I look forward to NOT smelling tomorrow morning, in no particular order…
1. The dead flying fish that will have landed in our cockpit somewhere.
2. The dead tiny squid that will have landed on our deck. And the second one. And the third one.
3. The sulfuric smell of seawater pumped through our galley sink filters. A bouquet of rotten eggs – the final joke of organic matter that crawled up our intake hoses to die. 4. Body odor. Mine or his.
Yes, my trusty cold will spare me all these offenses in the morning. But where my nose will be spared stimulation, my other senses will gorge themselves on the experience that is waking up to the ocean – the sun will weave its rays through the thick clouds and waves as they crest along the undulating sea. White and black seabirds will call to each other as they soar over the cockpit. I’ll look up and smile – appreciating the sweet gift of waking up to birdsong in the middle of the ocean. I never would have imagined! I’ll make sure I’m under the dodger so to avoid the droppings – nothing like a game of bird-poop dodge-ball to get the blood flowing in the morning.
“SHHHRISSSSHHHHHHHH”. The fruit hammocks whip themselves into a frenzy as the boat lurches from a few heavy waves again. Swing. Swing. Swing. Smack. Swing. A grapefruit knocks itself on the window above my head. It’s a real fight club for veggies up there. Just a couple days ago an avocado beat itself senseless against our new curtains on the windows. The aftermath of that guacamole blood-bath can still be seen.
I look at the time. It’s 1:20am – time to poke my head up and scan the horizon. Adios! Er, Au Revoir!