Dateline: Feb. 3, 2012  Somewhere between Walvis Bay and Cape Town

It’s another sea day, following a rather looong sea night.  I wouldn’t wish to complain—so I won’t—but some of my fellow passengers might.  We’ve turned south now, from Walvis Bay, Namibia, heading toward Cape Town, S. A.  Those of you who are more boaty than I am can certainly correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that as we sailed west-to-east from South America to Africa the movement of the boat was rolling, and now that we are heading from north to south, it has changed to pitching.  I don’t know if that accounts for the added roughness of the ride, but it’s fair to say that you could fire a cannon in any of the public areas on the ship and not hit anyone.  People are staying in their rooms in droves.  Even my butler admits to being seasick.  I, however, am not.  When I recall my adventure in the Southern Ocean, en route to Macquarie Island, this all seems rather tame.

You may recall I wrote about Things That Go Bump In the Night.  All manner of things moved around the room throughout that night, and in the morning everything that had been on the vanity was in the sink.  Well, here I haven’t even seen a pen roll!  I do admit that walking is a challenge…actually, it’s more like lurching.  And weaving and bobbing.  I sort of enjoy the fact that everyone has a funny walk—it’s a great leveler.  Those of us who don’t move as gracefully as others can revel in our moment of equality.

Quite apart from the pitching—and lurching—the sound effects are awesome.  As we slam headlong into the waves, the crashing and banging sounds are thunderous.  One wonders how the ship holds together.  And then one snuggles deeper into the doona and goes back to sleep.  Briefly.  Not a night for sleeping—only catnapping.  In my cabin there is a weird, rhythmic moaning sound, rather like an exhausted cow trying to climb out of a deep hole.  It doesn’t bear thinking about.

But as I said, I wouldn’t want to complain.  Not about that, anyway.  Only that I woke up sounding like Barry White again.  And my eyes are the brightest red you ever saw.  So I’ll be hiding out in my room, too.  It doesn’t pay to gloat about not being seasick.         MM