Rain and Rainbows (28.13, 150.32)

I have been trying to make myself spend a good chunk of time outside each day. It is easy to get stuck in your routine, going from one air conditioned room to another, and unless we are pulling OBSes out of the water, you have to make a conscious effort to go outside. Depending on our heading and the time of day, I will either hangout on the port side bow or pull up a collapsible camping chair on the stern. This afternoon I got to enjoy the site of rain cloud veils dusting the distant (and no so distant) sea and watch rainbows dance across the sky as we chugged along. It was very peaceful.

Today was a big recovery day. At noon, we were all riding on the high of getting our second of the day, which would mean by the end of the day we would have collected three. This would be a big momentum boost for the science team. This momentum boost was soon stomped out, however, when the engineers pulled the tube out of the OBS that housed the data and battery pack only to find that it had water in it, smelled of rotten eggs and was completely chard on the inside. The engineers, knowing way in advance what the situation was, promptly dropped the whole thing over the edge of the boat, data and all.

The rest of us watched in jaw dropping horror until we got the explanation. The OBSes are powered with lithium batteries, 11 to be exact. When water leaks into the battery housing it can (and usually does) cause the battery to short circuit. If a spark is produced, the lithium can ignite. When the molten lithium comes in contact with seawater, it reacts exothermically (it gets REALLY hot) and produces hydrogen, which is very flammable, and other toxic corrosive gasses. This hot, fiery, toxic mess if very dangerous because it can not be put out with water and will just consume anything in its path. In this situation, they think the leak occurred a long time ago and we were just smelling the bits of gas that were left. But if a leak were to occur as the OBS was ascending, and that flammable reaction was peaking when the OBS was being lower onto the ship, it is a really dangerous situation. There was a situation a few years ago where that exact thing happened and when the engineers tried to pull out the data tube, a fire broke out that burned through that deck and the deck below it before the crew could put it out. Each lithium batter has the energy density of about half a sick of dynamite and when you have 11 batteries in close proximity to each other, the situation can quickly get out of control. Needless to say, if any signs of a lithium fire exist, it is much safer to just throw the whole thing back into the water, which is what our engineers did. Chalk one up for the ocean.

Losing that OBS data was a bummer because it was in a key location for the OBS array. That means we are relying on the two remaining G2 OBSes to provide the data that we just lost. And seeing how unreliable the G2s have been so far, it is not the kind of basket I want to be putting all of my eggs in. However at this point, we don't have any other options.

We made our third recovery of the day successfully around sunset. It was raining a little and the sun was setting on the port side of the boat and at the same time a giant rainbow filled the starboard side of the boat. The recovered OBS sat happily between the two. We took it as a good omen, hopefully for the rest of the trip, but at least for one more successful recovery.

Sea Crazy (28.27, 153.29)

There are two groups of instruments, from two different universities, that we are collecting. One of the groups instruments are preforming beautifully and the recoveries are quick and efficient (about 2.5 hours). Group #2's instruments however, are a bunch of dysfunctional ghetto hoopties. The recoveries, if they come up, are taking 5-7 hours.

Due to these interactions, the OBSes have taken on personalities in my head. They are like little animals.  I picture the first group, lets call them G1, are like well behaved and loveable pets. They look really cute bobbing around at sea and when the finally get on deck they look so happy. I picture them wagging their tail with excitment and breathing heavily after holding their breath for a year. As Danny so well put it "I picture them sitting on the deck with a big squishy smile looking up at you with their little eyebrows raised, really trying to look up because they can't move, as though looking for your approval on the trick they just did by rising to the surface on command." It just makes me want to hug them.


When we have to pick up the second group, G2, it is an exhausting experience. It is like watching someones poorly behaved dog that is whiny and pees all over your house. When I see the G2s limply bobbing in the ocean, I look at them a bit irritated and disgusted. They seem like pail weaklings that can't fend for themselves, don't behave well and just flounder in the water. But then I feel a little sorry for them, because it is not their fault that their owners did not invest in high-tech, fail-proof design. But I still don't like them.

One thing that probably does not help the irritation is that when we are actively talking to the OBS, the ship has to be turned off. We communicate with acoustics, so the extra noise from the engines interferes with the command signals. One thing I have learned is that being on a ship dead in the water is twice as bad as being on a moving ship. Every wave is exaggerated. It is like being on the teacup ride and they won't let you off. When we collect the G1s, the ship is only turned off for about 30 mins when we tell it to let go of its anchor. The G2s, since they don't behave properly, force the ship to be off for 5 to 7 hours. So by the time the G2s surface, there is not a very big place in my heart for them.  


Perhaps I am getting a bit Sea Crazy. Either way, OBS collecting is half way over. They were deployed in two clusters and we finished the first group today.  We have 8 more OBSes to pickup, 5 G1s and 3 G2s.

We now get to relax for about 17 hours as we transit to the location of the 2nd group. I think we are all taking advantage in the momentary lull in action to catch up on sleep, do some laundry and to knit. OK, well maybe just Tina and I are knitting.

Pizza and Sunsets (29.37, 154.16)

Standing on the boat in the dark during OBS recoveries, looking out into the black distance, searching for a tiny blinking light somewhere on the horizon, the extent of the darkness undeniable. It is an odd feeling having no frame of reference to your existence. No moon or stars to orient you. As you stare out into the darkness, you can't tell where the sky starts and the sea ends. No reference of distance. You are so use to motion and without any point of reference you cant tell if the boat is bobbing in one place or if it is turning or moving. It is a bit alarming to feel so disoriented. It is not until the little blinking light surfaces can you get some perspective on where a distant horizon might be. Not until you see that blinking light move from the port to the starboard side, do you realize that the boat is actually turning around.

OBS recovery is in full swing, with two more successful recoveries today. Today we had our first day light recoveries. On the previous recoveries, all at night, we had a blinking strobe light to alert us to the OBS's location. In the daylight, however, you have to spot the tiny orange flag bobbing in the waves. There is also a radio signal on the OBSes, but we have not had the best of luck so far with it functioning properly. I got one point today for spotting one of the OBSes first. Can you see it?

The first one of the morning took twice as long as it was supposed to because the OBS only dropped one of its weights successfully. Slowly but surely, it made it to the top... 5 hours later. The recovery this evening was much smoother.

Tonight was Pizza Friday. It is amazing how knowing you get pizza for dinner can lift ones spirits for an entire day. After our evening OBS recovery, Tina and I grabbed a couple slices of pizza and headed to the deck to watch the sunset. It was a beautiful, clear evening and I saw my first green flash right as the last bit of the sun went down. I was able to catch a sliver of it on film. It was not a big flash, but a sliver of green light non the less.

Victory and No Sleep (29.54, 155.34)

We were able to retrieve two more OBSes successfully yesterday. Go Science! Somehow all of the retrievals have occurred during my time on watch so I have been staying busy and staying up too late. Tina and I got to assist in the actual retrieval last night. We had to stand in the back and be assistants to the guys who have to hook the OBS as it floats by. We handled their poles for them and made sure the lines did not get tangled. We felt pretty official. We even go to wear hard hats.

Victory and Defeat (27.47, 154.54)

Our first OBS recovery attempt started at 5:30 am. Once we were in range, the OBS engineers sent down a signal to tell the OBS to release its anchors. They can then send additional signals to figure out how far away the OBS is so they can tell if it is rising. After signaling it to release its anchors for about 2 hours, the OBS still had not moved from the seafloor. The ocean had claimed its first victim. There are a million ways something can go wrong and there is no way of knowing what happened. The OBS might have been stuck in mud or the flotation devices could have imploded due to such high pressures. There is about a 2/3 success rate with these instruments, where failure could be due to not getting them off the seafloor or if we do get them back on the ship, having something mechanical go wrong so we can't get any data from it. We knew sooner or later we loose a solider to the sea. It was not a good way to start off the day or the mission. As one of the engineers put it "There is our 70 thousand dollar contribution to the seafloor."

Our spirits brightened a little when Tina and I won our first Quiot game, handily at that (21-11). Due to my quoit-elbow I had to change throwing techniques. It turns out I am better with my new method. We were both on today - GO SALTY STICHERS!

After cutting our losses at the first OBS site, we had to travel about 7 hours to get to the next site. This OBS got off the seafloor on the first try. Once the OBS is confirmed to be rising, we had to wait around for about 2 hours for it to get to the top. They rise about 45-50 m/min, but they are just really deep so it takes a while. While we waited, we spent our time watching sunsets, watching squid and watching distant thunderstorms.

 At one point, one of the crew members got out a fishing pole. He was fishing for squid (or whatever else that was biting) and he let me cast a couple times, which resulted in my first squid catch. It was a riot trying to reel that thing in. I am pretty sure it was related to The Kraken because it fought like a sea monster. It also squirted me with a gut full of seawater. Tina got it all on film.

Finally the OBS surfaced and Tina was the first to spot it (WooHooo! That earns you serious bragging rights). There it was, blinking its strobe light off in the distance, telling us it was ready to be picked up after a long year on the ocean floor. Welcome home little buddy.

The Captain steering the boat from the back deck. OBS blinking in the water.

That'll do pig. That'll do.

Day Off (28.30, 159.22)

Not having to set an alarm to wake up at 4 am was a gift. We are about the start the OBS retrieval and rearrange watch schedules, so the last two days we have orchestrated alternating days off between watch partners so we each have a chance to rejuvenate. Today was mine.

I spent the morning playing with my camera. I ended up at the bridge and the 3rd mate let me steer the ship. Well, really he let me hold the wheel. The ship mostly runs on auto pilot. But he explained what all of the knobs and dials did. He showed me the sexton (which is used to measure the height of a star in the sky) and explained about celestial navigation (which never really gets used anymore, but is a romantic thing to hear about). I also spent a chunk of the morning working on my quoit technique. I have to stop letting Tina down.

But the biggest highlight of my day was when I found out that we get Thanksgiving Dinner for dinner, complete with pumpkin pie! I am so excited. Not much else to report. Here are some photos from this morning.

T- Rex (28.05, 164.19)

Let me change my previous statement... I became worried. The pony reference no longer holds up either. Any previous description of wild is also no longer relevant.

Being on the ship last night and experiencing 55-70 mph winds (and the waves that came along with those winds) is better described by hiding in an overturned, mangled car from Tyrannosaurus Rex. *Picture yourself holding on to the car seats for dear life so you don't fall out the smashed out windows. Clinching your jaw and holding your breathe so he does not hear you. Listening to the car moan from the torture it has experienced. Then, about every 10 minuets, just when you think he has left you alone, T-Rex picks of the car in his mouth, shakes its wildly and throws it across the dark field. Repeat from *. It was a very long night.

The top roll (side to side tilt) recorded for the ship was 18 degrees. That is really big for a double hulled ship which are supposed to be very stable for roll motions. Things were crashing and banging all over the ship through out the night. Sitting on watch, our chairs would slide from one side of the lab to the other. I did not get much sleep.

This morning however, the winds had died down to about 25 knots (~28 mph). Yesterday I would have called that wild, but this morning it seems more like a gentle fall morning breeze. The rest of the day was mostly sunny, but still pretty choppy. Tina and I played our third quoit game. We lost, but it was a nail biter. We were down 17-20 and Tina pulled out a ringer to tie the game 20-20. I was unable to hold up my side of things and we ended up losing 21-20. But I think we are getting the hang of it and are about to break out. Stay tuned.

Stormy Weather (27.27, 169.30)

We awoke this morning to 35 mph winds. Getting around the boat felt like someone just made me put my head to the end of a bat and spin around 10 times. It takes a lot of effort to get anywhere. Tina and I had an Extreme Quoits match (the game must go on) this morning. We lost. But it was indeed humorous to toss a ring as you are stumbling from one side of the staging bay to the other. By the way, the staging bay is kind of like the garage of the ship. We had the door open so we could see the wild sea crashing in the background, but it was dry in the bay so we could still play. After the game, we just sat and watched the storm for awhile. It was really pretty. Every once in a while you would get a wave crash across the deck. It was kind of like watching fireworks.

View from the staging bay at the back of the ship.

Needless to say I did not go outside at all today. We had grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch which was perfect for such stormy weather. I  just knit, watched movies and did laundry. So really it was like any other rainy day in Providence. Well except for the fact that you bounce off of everything anytime you try to walk anywhere.

 
This evening after dinner the winds picked up to 45-55 mph and are blowing at 90 degrees to us. The captain has since said no one was allowed to go outside and if you must, you have to alert the bridge, have a buddy and be wearing a life vest. We spent the day tying things down so now we just have to ride this pony till she gets tiered. There has been some big waves crashing over the starboard bow. The captain says they have seen worse so I am not worried yet. Yeehaah!

White Horses (26.42, 174.12)

This morning was the complete opposite of yesterday morning. The wind picked up and the waves were crashing. One bad thing about having a double hull boat, is that the flat surface between the two hulls acts like a crashing symobol when the waves are at just the right distance to come up between the hulls. It sounds like a cannon went off and the entire ship shakes. I am told the sounds today are minor compared to what it can do in really bad weather. I don't really want to find out. It was hard enough to sleep last night the way it was. Anyways, the crashing waves and blowing sea spray also made for a nice sunrise this morning.

I was educating myself about "gale force winds" today (as that word has been thrown around recently to describe possible upcoming weather) and I came across the Beaufort Scale. This scale was introduced as a way to standardize weather observations and water conditons in ship logs. The original scale was not quantified by numerical wind speeds, but rather by a ship's sails, ranging from "just sufficient to give steerage" to "that which no canvas sails could withstand." At zero, all a ship's sails would be up; at six, half of the sails would have been taken down; and at twelve, all sails would be stowed away. I thought that was a really interesting way to standardize weather descriptions. Anyways, gale force winds are an 8.

This scale has long since been updated to reference measured values of wind speed and wave characteristics. I was reading though some of the wave descriptions and one is "Many white horses." I was not able to find an elaborated definition on the term, but my imagination leads me to believe it is when a wave folds over on itself and sends a white avalanche of foam down the backside of the wave peak, simulating a stampede of white horses running down a mountain. If that is not correct, I am redefining the term right now.

Today began the ship wide quoits tournament. For those of you not in the know, quoits is like the ship version of horseshoes (What is it about isolation that makes you want to throw stuff at a stick?). Anyways, Tina and I are on a team, The Salty Stichers, and we had our fist match today. We played Don (Tina's adviser) and the other lead scientist on the mission (she hails from CA). Needless to say, Tina and I were not able to back up all of our (my) trash talking. We lost. Tina definitely carried the team though, scoring a momentum changing ringer in the final hours. It was just too little too late. Our next match it tomorrow morning at 10:30 am (p.s. Tina if you read this before I see you tomorrow, we have a match at 10:30 am against Frank and Chris). The rough seas also add an extra challenge, especially when the spike you are aiming for moves in between the time of your release and the time the ring hits the ground. I am also pretty sure OSHA would not approve standing over spikes screwed into the ground while the waves are making you wobble back and forth.

We are also in the process of filming a music video (I'm on a boat) and the crew are being awesome sports about it. I always said there was a little bit of gangster in everyone. Anyways, with 9 days of transit before we can start to collect the instruments, we have had to get creative. I think today we passed the half way point.

Glassy Water (25.41, 179.20)

This morning I had the opportunity to witness nature at a fine moment. The ocean was so glassy and calm and the full moon was just about to set on the horizon. The moonlight lit up a golden trail of gentle rolling waves from the front of the ship the the edge of the Earth. The stars and planets in the sky that were bright enough to outshine the moon also left their own little paths of light leading off to unknown parts of the sea. Everything was quiet, as if the ship's engine was whispering as to not disturb the heavenly scene or the sleeping crew. The big dipper was off to the north, plunging into the distant sea. It was a strange feeling seeing familiar constellations in the sky but having them be in the different places. As if someone had shaken the celestial sphere creating a new star chart. It added to the unearthly feeling of this temporary dream world. I could have sat on the front of the ship all morning and watching the moon set, but alas, I had to go back to the computer lab.

A few hour later, the glassy seas added to a beautiful and calm sunrise and the boat was the only one making waves.

The Essex (24.23, -175.13)

Today while I was sitting out on deck, I stated talking to one of the OBS engineers. We were talking about really what a desolate place the middle of the Pacific is. Except for the occasional flying-fish, there is nothing out here. Then he started telling me about the whaling boat the Essex that was sunk by a sperm whale. The story of the Essex is apparently the inspiration for Moby-Dick. The sailors that escaped survived for three months at sea, but only because they drew lots for who would be sacrificed so that the rest of the crew could eat them. Then they drew lots for who had to shoot the guy. They also resorted to drinking their own urine. It is strange to think that being at sea, surrounded by water, and one would think fish, there was no other way to survive. And they barely made it. It is really like a giant salty desert out here. I never looked at the Pacific Ocean in that way. I always pictured is abundantly full and bursting at the seams with life. Its not. Not at the surface anyways.

Tonight we will cross the international date line which sits on the 180º line of longitude in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and is the imaginary line that separates two consecutive calendar days. At 2:00 am on Thursday, October 21st, we will turn the clock ahead by 23 hours, so it will become 1:00 am on Friday, October 22nd. I will never get to experience Thursday October 21st, 2010. Lets all take a moment of silence.

Hope you all get to enjoy it!

A Tour: The Outside (22.57, -170.04)

After lunch I had time to kill until my shift started at 4 pm. I brought my camera outside to try and give you a feel for walking around the boat. The pictures won't do it justice. It is a real ruff and tough working boat filled with dangerous obstacles and boat exhaust. Plus, unlike most other dangerous environments where the public is allowed to go, this ship is not idiot proof. There are a dozen different opportunities for me the hurt myself or fall overboard every time I walk around. So leave the village idy at home cuz he wont make it long on this ship.

I have found that if you go up the the bow and hangout on one of the hulls (with the anchor chain which is the size of my thigh) the sea breeze keeps the stinky exhaust in the back and there are some good places to sit. That is where I have taken to hanging out and reading.

Back of the boat on the 01 deck looking forward on the port side.

Door on the left is the closest door to my room. Notice how well it blends in. They all do which makes it an adventure every time you want to go back inside.

Front of the boat looking back on the starboard side. Notice the large chain holding up the anchor. This is where I like to sit. You can see where the captain hangs out up on top.

On the port side hull looking at the starboard hull (remember that this is a two hull boat). You can see the large anchor hanging off of the front and you can kind of see the bottom of the hull in the water. It kind of looks like a torpedo.

This is just a cool light.

This is the half-set blue jello that is the sea we sail in. On the left is the bottom of the hull in the water.

A Tour: The Inside (22.54, -169.55)

One of the perks of having the 4 - 8 am shift is that you get to see the sun rise. This morning was no exception.

After my morning shift, and the nap that followed, my stomach was feeling much better. I was able to focus on carrying my camera around with me so you could see what I see.

My Room. I get it to myself and it comes complete with a locker, drawers,
a desk, scratchy chair, a sink and a funky smell. The door on the right opens
to a shared toilet and shower with the room on the other side.
I will be glad for the day when I can open a door or drawer and it wont
rhythmically close on me.

The computer lab. This is where we sit on watch and monitor all of the instruments.
Things will get much more exciting once we start collecting the OBSes.

This is what the hallways look like. I can''t imagine being on a
submarine because this feels small enough. The inside of the ship feels a
little tank like. Though not great for producing a cozy feeling, it is nice to know
that the sucker can be locked down if we get in a bad weather situation.
Notice the giant axe... just in case.

This is the mess hall. I feel so cool saying mess hall. It is like a cute little diner filled
with big salty sailors. That fridge/freezer in front is where all of the colony of ice cream lives.

This is the kind of temptresses you have to deal with when you dare to go to the mess hall.
Chocolate cake anyone? No? How about a peanut butter cookie with peanut butter chips?
And don't for get the fountain full of cancer! Notice the shelves below
lined with candy bars and carby snacks.

This little stack of treats is the last line of defense for the sailor-15 team,
You have to pass by it as you leave the mess hall... No wait,
one scoop of M&Ms won't hurt anyone.

The First 24 (21.49, -164.54)

Well, I made it through my first 24 hours of ship life. I am still dealing with my stomaching being about half way up my esophagus, but no mishaps yet.  We have been cruising along at a consistent 12 knots. It will take us about 9 days to reach the OBS location. The wind is at our backs and weather looks fair for the next few days. Can't say the same for China who is dealing with a Super Typhoon.

 

My past day has consisted of eating, sleeping, being on watch and sitting outside watching the horizon. The internet seems to be able to handle the uploading of low resolution photos so I will work on compiling a visual tour of the ship in the next few days. 

This morning I got to watch flying fish sore across the sea surface (they stay above water for a good 15 seconds and glide at least 100 ft. It is really impressive) and birds repeatedly dive for the catch of the day. I could only watch for so long before I had to avert my attention back to the horizon.

As with everyday life, I find myself always looking forward to the next meal. It is like getting a present every couple of hours.  The food has been great so far. Breakfasts have all been accompanied with lots of fresh tropical fruit and lunch and dinner both have an extensive salad bar (complete with sprouts!). Yesterday we had enchiladas for lunch and pork chops and mashed potatoes for dinner. Today we had BLTs and tomato soup for lunch and spaghetti, bolognese and calamari steaks with a white wine, lemon cream sauce for dinner. Apparently giant squids are attracted to the boat at night (they like the light) and the crew members catch them sometime. This results in super fresh calamari as a regular occurrence on the menu and the squids are so big, instead of slicing them in "O's" like you usually get in your appetizer basket, the chef here makes steaks out of them. Now that is a freakin big squid. Each meal also comes complete with dessert. We have had pecan pie, pineapple upside down cake, chocolate chip cookies and chocolate cake. What is not eaten at the meal sits on the counter tops calling your name every time you go down to get more coffee.

In addition to the meals, the mess hall is fully stocked with any type of snack food you can imagine. There are shelves of candy bars, popcorn, pretzels and chips and large jars filled with M&Ms, gummy bears and tiny peanut butter cups. We have a freezer full of ice cream and a fountain with all the Dt. Coke I can consume, which comes complete with a chewy ice dispenser (just like Sonic!). I am trying really hard to control my feasting. As Danny put it, this is what Willy Wonka's research vessel would look like. Needless to say, I will not go hungry on this trip.

This afternoon Tina and I had our first Salty Crafts craft time. We decided to be like the original knitters, the Arabian Sailors, and work on our yarn goods. Tina learned to knit and is well on her way to completing her first knitted scarf. WooHooo! I think tomorrow will be a knot tying tutorial.

A Note to the People (21.35, -162.16)

If anyone is out there reading this, I would love to know. Feel free to leave me some comments so I don't feel so lonely at sea...

Call gets her sea legs (21.20, -159.18)

Ok folks, this is not a drill. This is the real thing. Call is at sea.

Once we were out of the Honolulu port, our first order of business was the safety drills. The ship has "man-overboard" drills, fire drills, abandon ship drills and pirate drills. Luckily for us, the scientist have one job for all emergency situations. All we have to do is grab our life vests out of our rooms (first you have to find your room again) and go to the staging platform at the stern of the 00 deck (i.e., the open space on the bottom deck at the back of the ship). My biggest challenge today has been learning the ship vocabulary. That and trying not to get sea sick. No major fails yet.

I am on my first watch right now. We work 4 hours on and 8 hours off. I have the 4-8 am and 4-8 pm shifts. We have to watch all of the instruments to make sure nothing goes wrong. This research mission costs about 40 thousand dollars a day, so if one of the instruments fails for any amount of time and it is not noticed, it becomes pretty costly. Plus they (our chief scientists) threatened to name the resulting gap in the data after whoever was on watch so any scientist who wants to use our data will curse our name when they have to deal with missing data. 

I am told we currently have "fair weather and a following sea" which are the two things sailors hope for. A following sea means the waves are propagating in the same direction that we are sailing. We don't have to fight the current and we are not sailing perpendicular to the waves which makes the boats pitch and roll are all over the place. Pitch is the front and back motion and roll is the side to side motion. The third dimension is heave, the up and down motion.

Sitting on the stern this afternoon, watching the horizon and Oahu get smaller and smaller behind us, I was reminded of our last night in Waikiki and the Hula Dancers we got to see. A couple of the performances were very traditional ancient hula dances (different from the modern, smooth, seductive, as seen in movies, hula). Watching those ladies hips and hands mimic waves and water made you certain that these were people of the sea. Their motions were so beautiful and strong. You could feel the meaning behind their movements as they danced prayers for prosperity and peaceful gods. Their dance was one of respect and fear of the untamed energy of the ocean. It was really beautiful.

Hawaii Day 6 & 7 - Lazy Days (21.27, -157.83)

After our week of action packed days, we decided to be worthless for the next two days. We were at the pool by 8 am obtaining prime real-estate at the infinity pool. We ate fresh papayas for breakfast and read. The bar opened at 10 am and we took full advantage of the before noon happy hour. Feeling a little too good, we found our way up to the spa for our 2 pm message appointments. 50 minutes of lavender rubbing. The rest of the afternoon was spent napping.

That evening we went out on the tourist strip. We walked through the International Market and found a stand that had a bucket of oysters. I picked one out, tapped it three times for good luck and popped that baby open. A pale pink purl was inside, which is supposed to bring beauty and love. I already have both. What a waste.

Our last day on land was filled with hanging out on the beach and looking at the mountains. Our goal was to soak up as much asphalt as we could since we won’t be seeing it for another 3.5 weeks. We will be spending the night on the ship tonight and leaving the port early tomorrow morning.

We just found out that our internet will be really bad and we may not even be able to use the internet on our laptops. I will still be able to type on the blog, but I am not sure I will be able to upload beautiful sunset pictures and such.