Rhythms

Let me just start by saying that becoming one with the daily routines of life on the Gould has been interesting.  Most specifically, I have found that my normally acute senses of time and gravity are of little use on the ship and even completely betray me at times.  Despite dramatic stories of what veterans call "the crossing," braving the open ocean of the Drake Passage is actually forced relaxation.  While I don't doubt those stories of 20 ft swells, the passengers can't do their science, so everyone just relaxes and hopes for calm weather.  Suddenly, I found that my days had contracted considerably.  Wake up, eat, peek out the portholes and maybe enjoy the fresh air on deck, read, nap, eat, read, nap, exercise (see above), fresh air, socialize, eat, pester the captain and mates on call, movie, email, read, sleep.  Repeat.  And, even though the extended daylight hours make you stay up late, time is immeasurable by normal standards.  This phase of the journey reminded me how burdensome (albeit fun, purposeful, necessary) our daily obligations and routines can become and how important it is to allow yourself the time and brainspace for quiet thinking that somehow excludes your balls and chains.

         Now gravity, on the other hand, is a much more humorous force to explore while aboard a ship; too many of your mundane movements are affected for it to go unmentioned.  First, there are the treadmill incidences mentioned above and the many embarrasingly unbalanced missteps and shouldered doorjams.  Second, even trying to fall asleep feels silly and brings on the chuckles.  Third, walking up the countless flights of stairs... As the ship sways from side to side, one moment you're carrying five hundred pounds with each step and the next moment you're as light as a grasshopper.  Relatedly, ship doors are heavy and you can only imagine how gravitational acceleration and momentum complicate these transition areas between narrow hallways and steep staircases.  Fourth, the galley stools... Mmm..... roasted veggies.... lower extremities swing to the left... mmm..... mashed potatoes.... and we're back to the right.  It's not entirely subtle if your legs don't quite reach the floor.  And lastly, the shower.  Closing my eyes to wash off my face is like being pushed through one of those fun-houses except you're blindfolded and the mishapen mirrors are all internal.  If you don't fall, your stomach will at least turn over a few times.  My advice for the unpredictability of ships and life in general: either brace yourself or be ready to laugh when you don't.