Mapping the limits of the soul: the storms are raging on the rolling sea
The storms are raging on the rolling sea
and on the highway of regret
the winds of change are blowing wild and free
you ain’t seen nothing like me yet.
I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
I’d go to the ends of the earth for you
to make you feel my love.
Bob Dylan summarising nicely the sentiment of all loving men who are ladyless. Like a lot of poetry, there is nothing new here, except the way the truth is delivered. Nobody does it like Bob.
N 09 26.376′ W 173 11.694′
Today, not much happened again.
The seas continue to be large and rough, like a bouncer in a dockside strip club.
The ship continues to heel to and fro, like Wall-E sorting a spork into spoon and fork bins.
The battle against seasick snooziness raged (in a sleepy way) on.
It seems that when the seas get rough, I get a headache after a while, and just want to snooze! In these moments, I can stay awake as long as I don’t need to focus on anything. Such as reviewing papers. Impossibly barf-inducing.
Today I fought back, and worked out to revive my flagging energies. It may have worked, for now I feel like I can start chipping away at the review.
Today also, I knew I had found my people though, as yoga on the bow was scheduled for 3.30pm. Yoga! At sea with a bunch of marine biologists!!
But alas, due to the seas, soon this appeared, on what on other cruises might have been called the board of lies:
Otherwise, aside from tearing myself from my addiction to my cot, not much happened (probably because I was trying to break my bedlust snooze addiction!).
We continue to head off the map, and are now half way between the inconceivably remote points of Johnston and Howland.