In Forbidden Waters

YESTERDAY:

Hopefully, knocking on wood, the hives are past. I don't think I realized
exactly how badly they were dragging me down until I got more than 2 hours
of sleep and didn't have to fight the additional drowsiness of Benadryl when
I was awake. The same old culprit as it was 15 years ago- Tide laundry
detergent. Only this was the residual crap in the machines that made my
"free and clear" pretty much worthless. So I have to wash the machine, run
an empty cycle on hot, throw in my cloths with my soap for a second cycle,
do a third cycle with no soap to rinse, wash out the dryer with good soap
and water, then- at long last- dry my cloths. And that seems to work. I
think.

So the Red Sea between Saudi Arabia and Eritrea looks different than the Red
Sea I saw yesterday. The water is slate gray overall, and when churned it
looks like the mangled corpses of Seattle's grey Springtime clouds, floating
lifeless and face down. With some mockery of blue thrown in by the clouds'
killer to make it convincingly water-like. Which it isn't. No wonder there
are friggin' pirates here... today the water was flat and the horizon was
lost to mist, visibility down to about 9 nautical miles- or as the Second
Mate put it, "perfect pirate weather." I turned out to work my overtime,
too, and it was 30 Celsius (I have no idea what that is in Fahrenheit, but
"hydrate" is the word for the day). I was acid washing the house to remove
rust, so I had on rubber boots, rain gear, goggles, rubber gloves... you
know, a private sauna. Some people actually pay to sweat like this. It's
supposed to be about 113 F in a couple of days, which has everyone hoping we
arrive in Dubai at night (which is Sunday? Who fucking knows... I sure as
hell don't).

One of the most important things when working at night is having your night
vision dialed in. It takes about 15 minutes for your eyes to get there, but
then you can see pretty damned good. Well, we have two different types of
night binoculars that turn the world into a flat, green, and visible
monochrome for use in these waters, and both of them fry the rods in my eyes
and ruin my night vision. I don't like them.
So, there you have it. I got nothin' more. 5 hours of sleep until my
midnight shift, then when that's over I'm on watch on the stern with
anti-vermin measures and a radio, then I get to sleep between 8 and noon,
then I have my next 4 hour shift.

TODAY:

The grey, lifeless waters changed for the better when we approached a strait
known as "Babel Mandeb," between Yemen and Jabouti. The wind picked up to
about 25 knots (45 apparent) and the dead calm was replaced with nice 2
meter wind waves and no swell. While on my watch on the stern the
whitehorses in the dark were lit by phosphorescence and the stars were as
bright as moonlight (no moon), and the stern is only about 30 feet above the
water (as opposed to the 150 ft at the bridge) so it was animated and
lively. I was listening to the Posies and the Raconteurs to drown out the
clanging of container boxes and all in all it was a decent way to spend a
watch in much appreciated solitude.

The sun rose to reveal a teal water that churns to a pale aquamarine, and by
the time we were in the Gulf of Aden the ghastly pall of the southern Red
Sea was thankfully passed. I saw the first whale since the eastern seaboard
of the US, today. It blew a children's storybook-perfect spout of water and
slid by about 20 meters off the starboard side as we steamed by at 21 knots.
Also, a mega-yacht in the middle of these god-forsaken waters... two
different crew members claim it is a "tour" for the heavily armed
ultra-wealthy who troll for hijackers as a sporting way to spend incredible
amounts of money.