I’d really hoped that the Promethazine was going to get me through it. I’d hoped, at least, that we’d make it to open sea. But we hadn’t even rounded the lighthouse at Cape Pilar before I was resigned to my fate: alternating between lying flat on my back and scrambling for the nearest available basin at half hour intervals.

Nausea is a horrible, horrible thing. I can work through pain, through, fatigue. I can push those visceral klaxons aside, hearing them, feeling them, but rising above their din. But nausea? It engulfs you, like the sea itself. There is no away; there is just your body trying to turn itself inside out, whispering Please, please, just make it stop.

It’ll pass, I know. I hope. With luck and enough hydration, I’ll be back on my feet tomorrow, in time to start being of some use to the ship as we get the science up and running. In the meantime, Bug is covering for me. Bug? Oh, right: Valerie Warner. VW. Bug. Get it? She’s the senior sysadmin on this cruise, and aside from having a cast iron stomach, can drop kick a packet overflow error over the aft A-frame with her eyes closed. So we’re in good hands. It’s just hard to feel like I’m not letting everyone down. (See selfie pity picture below :)