Did yesterday happen?
I have to assume it did, because I have some stuff here on board now that I didn't have before. One of the things that people don't always mention about shipboard life is that
it always seems the same. Everyday is the same routine as the one before it, and the same as the one my grandfather followed in World War II, and the one
Richard Henry Dana experienced when he wrote
Two Years Before the Mast back in 1840. Of course, now I can't wear a
beard or
pony tail, but they can't
flog me either.
Have I mentioned that 3:30 am is early and wrong?
Yes, I have. I had to get up really early again. Tadpole and wife were
snug and
cuddly in bed. I wanted to stay, but got up anyway.
"Someone's been sleeping in my room, too!", said little bear.
I entered my
stateroom to find a new, unknown individual in the top bunk. He stirred, and I decided that I am moving out today and back to my old place. It's noisy up there under the flight deck anyway, and far from the food.
MMMMmm. . . food.