Sea Sick

It's the third day at sea.  We're traveling from Fort Lauderdale to Montreal.  A 15 day cruise.  The sail away party was great.  The rest is a blur.

A big storm.  As George Castanza said on "Seinfield,"  The sea was angry that day, my friend. 

Watching folks come into the theater last night was like seeing drunken sailors dressed like elegant little old ladies.  Lots of lurching.  Then water gushed from an upstairs room, down the winding staircase from the balcony.  Startling, but the crew took it in stride.

I'm having to choose between those little pills they're handing out at the front desk and consciousness.  Should I risk not keeping my breakfast down or take a pill and pass out?  Hard choice.

We got off the ship in Charleston yesterday.  I felt like an astronaut landing.  I wanted to kiss the ground.  Sea sickness is very strange.  You can be near death and then the waves stop and you are instantaneously healed.

Things are better.  We're still not allowed on the deck but the waves have stopped washing over it.  The winds have subsided to 46 mph.  

And tomorrow is another port day.


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