In the middle of the ocean

2 March 2014

Update by Claire:
“After five days in there just eating, sleeping, and bundling up in damp clothes to go on watch, I’m finally feeling less like a zombie. I already feel that the biggest endurance test of this trip is over with; at the same time there is a certain freedom in the absence of the million obligations that would have demanded my attention on land-freelance assignments, surfing frivolous blogs, searching for dinner recipes (we have Job for that, god bless him!) and an endless parade of emails. Not many people get the opportunity to become nearly completely reduced to tasks that have remained unchanged for a thousand years: eat, sleep, sail. Occasionally I get a twinge of something I would have been thinking about back home: “Hmm, that sounds like a great Modern Love piece, but damn, I’m sure someone’s already thought of it,” and start stressing out, but then I realize I’m in the middle of the ocean where nobody cares about Modern Love, and feel a little smug. I know this won’t last forever, and the mountain of tasks I’ll have in front of me will be higher than it might have been if I hadn’t left. But there’s no point thinking of that now, and in fact I’m incapable of wasting any real mental energy on it.
The good weather took a long time in coming, and the changeover of the watches has been particularly difficult on me. I anticipated this at home before I left, because midnight till four is exactly the period of the night where my body is begging for sleep. Then, when it’s over, by necessity I sleep for the rest of the morning, then it’s 12 and, surprise, it’s watch time again. I feel compelled to spend every spare moment napping; it sounds boring, but an adequate amount of rest is just about the most important thing in the world to me, at sea OR on land.
A few days ago, there was an actual storm at sea, which sounds scarier than it really was (just in case my mother is reading this). The seas weren’t particularly rough, but there was plenty of thunder and lightning and it was exciting to see. Arian assures us that from here until Ascension Island, there will be more good weather than bad, and in the interests of my mental health, I believe him. Clothing is being shed in layers; I’m looking forward to catching a glimpse of any hidden tattoos that might be revealed in the coming days. With more people on deck, a more social atmosphere prevails. Meanwhile, down below in the cabins, it’s getting hot, which I can deal with because in Minnesota there were several meters of snow covering the ground when I left and we’d just come out of temperatures 40 degrees C below zero (an estimation because as an American, my grip of the metric system is shaky). It’s no different from those long, hot summers I spent in my New York City apartment without air conditioning, and at least here’s the chance of a nice refreshing spray in the face every once in a while. In other words, I’m not complaining, especially because by the time I get back home it will be spring.”