Thursday, January 27, 2011

Day One Hundred and Seventy-Nine

Day 179: 27 Jan 2011

Have I mentioned how much I hate the water? I didn't used to, at all. But since this bug got inside me. . . Guh. I feel like a housecat being dangled over a full bathtub out here on this crappy little boat.

I'm not the only one in a bad mood. Black and his Navy buddies are getting bored, restless, angry, or some combination of the three. Radar hits are all over the place. A huge mass will pop up, then go black. And Travis ditching out a couple days back didn't help anyone's mood.

Frustration. Futility. Probably another F-word. These were the feelings on the ship this morning, and I could tell the guys wanted to pack it in. Pull up the anchor or whatever (sue me, I'm not a nautical person), and just haul for shore, hit a bar, and get stupid hammered.

Part of me supported that plan. Part of me was worried about Travis. But that plan got put on hold just past sunrise this morning.

Because that was when the first chunk of the God of the Seas -- a severed piece of tentacle a meter long -- broke the surface.

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