Author: Gabriel Cohen
Location: Underway to Brazil in the Atlantic Ocean
Today began as every other day at sea has. The sun emerged from behind the world and began to climb. It climbed up through the sky, and as it ascended it spread its fire across our enormous little universe. Merciless, indifferent heat danced inexorably over a clear blue desert where life is but a curious novelty. People stood their watches and took their naps. A ship was sighted in the late morning, but soon disappeared across the horizon into someone elses reality. The rhythm of passage is now our default setting, and Im starting to forget how life on land made any sense. Today we had our Basic Seamanship midterm, which not only counts on our grades, but determines whether or not we receive an International Crew Certification. There was air of stress and anxiety leading up to the test, as shipmates tried to funnel the last drops of information into their suffocating brains before it all poured out again. Lunch was pasta salad and dinner was curry. The sun has become bored with tormenting us for today, and is now returning to the place it goes beyond the sea and on the other side of the sky. Some say that the ocean will make one feel small and insignificant. I beg to differ. In the briny emptiness than spans our view, we are always at the very center. This world is ours, and anyone that dares to enter it is our inherent subordinate. We continue our voyage from one island that no one knew much about to another that none of us have heard of, and we are bringing our personal universe along. Message ends.