Day 8

We have been at sea for a full week!  In that time we have spent all but the first 45 minutes of the voyage on a starboard tack.  That means our whole world has been leaning 15 to 30 degrees to left for the better part of 7 days.  That includes beds, chairs, pots of boiling water, floors, ladders etc.  It took some getting used to, but it seems that we have all adapted quite well. 

It will be bizarre when we do tack.  Suddenly our whole world will be tilting the other way.  None of the old hand or foot holds will help us in getting around.  Our muscles will no doubt feel the change as well.  We can only hope to have gained enough grace at sea in this time to save our knees and shins from a second round of heavy bruising. 

Apart from our spatial challenges, life on the deep has settled into the routine or as Ben put it succinctly as he was beginning his watch at 4 am this morning “the novelty of all this has worn off”.  The four hour sleeping sessions now seem natural.  Standing watch and steering the boat have become standard chores.  Preparing food on swaying surfaces and appliances, while still awkward, is more manageable than it was. 

               This routine exists in the surreal environment of the open ocean though.  Yesterday evening Corbin, Ben, Steve and I were on deck waiting for diner to finish cooking.  The sun was on it’s way down and cast everything in orange.  On the horizon a tanker ship appeared, it was set to pass us on our port side.  A minute or two later a second tanker came into view, this one set to pass on our starboard side.  As rare as it is to have a close encounter with any ship, here we were set to pass between two, each less than 2 miles away from us.  The sun dipped further down and the orange grew redder.  Then Madonna came on the stereo.  After days of seeing nothing but waves, the sight of a large sunset-coloured ship to either side of us mixed with the smell of sausage cooking and set to the bouncy soundtrack of Madonna stood out as shockingly surreal.

Evan