Heavy Water

Rough seas off the coast of California

So much for being out of harm's way. I was awakened at 4 am this morning by the loud banging of our anchor against the hull. This is the usual sound when travelling into a headwind, which causes the bow to dip steeply over the waves. A strong cold front caught up to us overnight; we're taking waves from the front and to the starboard side. As a result, we're cruising at about 4 knots instead of the 11 at which we travelled all day yesterday.

The seas were heavier this morning than they have been since we left port. It's like riding a roller coaster whose tracks you can't see... and trying to walk up stairs and down hallways at the same time. We weren't allowed on the weather decks, thanks to the pouring rain and the waves washing over the bow and the rail, but we could stand down by the moon pool and witness the 16' seas up close and personal.


Riding the storm out...

This weather makes for some terrific photos, but it also brought Ralph to the party! :( I visited the ship's doctor just in time to need his facilities... he told me that people are sick all over the ship, and he'd already thrown up twice himself. He gave me two prescription-strength dramamine and sent me away - I woke up 8 hours later with a terrible Dramamine hangover, but much less nausea. Feeling much better now.

Almost worth the illness was the awesome beauty of the storm. It makes you feel so vulnerable to witness such anger and chaos all around you. Make no mistake, though... my experience today was peanuts compared to some of the experiences on board this ship: several years ago, the JR was nearly lost in an enormous storm; most of those who sailed that leg are reluctant to speak about it in detail even now.

But this is my first time at sea, and it's more than a little disconcerting to fall asleep on calm water and wake up in a maelstrom. My counterpart MCS, Mike Hodge, is inexplicably unaffected by the turbulence, although he uses a bungee cord to secure his chair to the desk, lest he roll away from his computer and into the far wall.

The ocean has calmed a bit... the rocking now feels more regular and almost calming. By nightfall, the skies had cleared enough to see the glow of the Bay Area's city lights on the horizon - the only clue we have that civilization is only 40 miles away. By morning, we should be as far south as Los Angeles...

.