Or fogs or whatever you want to chose as a name for that dense whiteness outside the windows of this ship which is obscuring any view from the outside promenade of Deck 8 through the forward observations windows of the lounge on Deck 15. It certainly applied to any attempt to see anything off my balcony this morning. I didn’t bother to attempt any sightings out those windows or port holes on the lower decks.
According to the Captain, part of our current environment is a result of leaving the Gulf Stream behind with a drop of water temperature from 17*C to 3*C. As there seems to be little wind, there is little ship movement is disturbing our travel through the fog. We could be anywhere. Anywhere at all in the world, anywhere off the world.
Sounds like the start of a science fiction novel doesn’t it. A postulation of a cruse ship sailing off from Ponte Delgada toward Halifax never to arrive. Kind of like John Varley did with his novels of airliners lost in the Bermuda Triangle. A loss that actually turned out to be agents from the future, an extremely polluted future where the planet had been polluted beyond the ability to sustain life. Those abducted from the planes, for abducted they were, sent off to colonize new worlds in an attempt to prevent the human species from vanishing from the universe.
Morbid this morning aren’t I?
It might be an effect of the only decent coffee on the ship had been that in the Living Room – the lounge used by those staying in the studios. That lovely WMF machine that ground beans cup by cup and using several kilos of coffee per day. Whatever the original supply, we are now being treated to Starbucks Expresso Beans in both the decaf and regular options. Perhaps I am one of the few non-Starbucks fans on the ship? But I find the resultant coffee both too dark a roast and acidic for my taste.
But I certainly can force myself to drink it in preference to whatever swill the other dining options on the ship are peddling. Not counting the Starbuck’s actual outlet on Deck 6 where you can use either your Starbucks Card or ships card for payment.
Not having looked at the weather report, I will just predict more of the same. Sailing forward through the whiteness. Bringing back memories of driving a VW beetle in Minnesota winters during the 70s. Little heat; inadequate defroster resulting in a feeling of being seated inside a box of Kleenex while attempting to navigate streets filled with snow, ice and other half-blind drivers.
The ship’s navigation systems are certainly better than they used to be. The radar and black-box equivalents will warn them of other large ships in the area. The lookout? He won’t be seeing anything but will have to assume that there are no little boats out there occupied by idiots sailing the Northern Seas. Me? All that whiteness coupled with binoculars would give me a headache.
It must be time for more coffee. Or, perhaps a nap?
