| I woke up as everybody was still sleeping. The
constant shifting noise of the crockery in the sink driving me out of my sleep.
It appears that our plans may have changed once again. The ship's navigational
system was ruined by water so we cannot dare the shallow reefs surrounding
Sambereo island. I am disappointed. We will head directly to the Dominician
Republic. At this stage I have learnt not to plan too far ahead as the plans
seems to change on a regular basis. I will stop counting the days for a while.
Day by day for now. The wind seems to have died down some so we are making
slower progress.
I can feel my own muscles weakened as I swam this morning. The same as
with the starving men. Today I can specifically notice Andriy's frame which
became much smaller. His muscles shrinking with atrophy as they are not being
used. We have not been doing any physical work on board and rarely even spent
time standing. The mood on board is generally apathetic as everybody is just
staring in front of them. All with their own thoughts. Mine is of fresh, warm
bread and butter. The postponement of reaching land a disappointment to all. It
was a long day - the longest so far. I hope the night goes by quickly. I spent
some of the afternoon going through some English phrases with Anatoli. He translates "I want steak" into Russian for
me. Cabin fever rages in me.
Today is the celebration of St. Nicholas and Andriy asked if he can
bless me. I agreed - The last time water touched my forehead in a blessing was
when I was baptized as a child. He softly made a cross on my forehead with oil.
Not minding that I did not know how to react to his blessing. I could sense
religion playing a stronger and stronger role as the days go by. Constantin
spending a lot of time with his Bible out on the deck today. Repeatedly making
the cross on his chest. If my mood is melancholic I can only imagine how they
must feel. Andriy's sense of humor still holding when he showed me his cup of
water this morning. Calling it his "breakfast". I feel guilty about my sad day
as I touch the oil on my forehead as the rain softly dripped outside. Anatoli's fried bread, still warm in my
stomach. |
