Southward we go...

We have been making way through the Arabian Sea and the Lakshadweep Sea, on
a rhumbline course of 132 down the face of the Indian Ocean. Ahead of us in
the night sky is Scorpius, with the red star Antares, and to our right is
Crux, also known as the "Southern Cross." Next to Crux are the Large and
Small Megallanic Clouds, the other two galaxies that are visible to the
naked eye (the other is Andromeda, next to Cassiopeia).

I mentioned the fantastic bio-luminous display in my last post- but it got
one-upped the next night when I watched fish swimming in spirals in the same
never-before-encountered phosphorescence. Just when I thought it couldn't
get any more friggin' rad, a school of dolphin showed up and made my head
explode. They played and cavorted right below the bridge wing; the liquid
trails they created when they swam appeared like some strange, high-voltage
plasma from the laboratory of Nicola Tesla - a hybrid combination of neon
lights and comet trails - punctuated with explosive bursts as they leapt
from wave to wave. The only thing missing from the scene was a unicorn.
Maybe a rainbow.

Venus cycles red and white when it rises, the different colored lights
flashing at different frequencies like a star. I did not know that.

So far I have been unable to prove or disprove the existence of the green
flash caused by the rising sun, though I continue to try. I have taken to
watching the place where the sun rises each morning with the binoculars but
the humidity here near the equator is too great and there is a clear,
uninterrupted slice of sky between the horizon and the rising sun (mirage
distortion called "looming") so I am thwarted in my quest each morning.

The Indian Ocean has been comprised of waters the color of obsidian glass
that churn a smoky jade. The overall sea has been the color of the sky, but
two days ago the colors were so exact, the horizon so smudged by humidity
and haze, and the sea state so calm, that it appeared there was no sea at
all and that the ship was suspended in the sky.

Four days until we arrive in Singapore. On my list: haircut, chiropractor,
a decent trackball (or a good mouse if one isn't findable), three pounds of
coffee, and more barbequed bacon.

The Chief Engineer and the 1st Engineer, whose nicknames include "Slash,"
"Encino Man," and "Turd Ferguson," continue to be the lightning rods of ire
to the crew, as if they are diviners after water, getting closer...
closer... The Chief has recently attacked the cadet and the Chief Cook.
Where I come from you never, ever piss off the person who makes your food.
You just don't do it. It fulminated into a shouting match in the galley
between the Old Man, the Chief, and the Cook... the Chief accusing the Cook
of "holding back" the "good food" for the "Cook's favorites," which include
the Captain. The Reefer has "quit drinking," apparently, and has stayed out
of trouble.

A quick note to say- this Old Man and Mate are top shelf. The respect they
show the unlicensed deck crew has translated into more work being
accomplished in two weeks than in the entirety of the last run (70 days).
They authorize the overtime and sign the paperwork without fuss and the
results speak for themselves- allowing the deck to work unimpeded is making
everyone look good.