Sometimes you don’t know how sleepy you are until you find yourself fumbling with clothes while standing on one leg, balancing against the side of the hull, before your early shift. Can’t fit into my shorts for some reasons. A call to the Nike customer support would go like this: Nike:     Ma’am, has your caloric intake increased within the last few weeks? Me:       Yes, sir, we have been pigging out since Thanksgiving but not since yesterday when I wore them last. (Yes, it is not only acceptable to wear yesterday’s clothes for the next day’s shift but kind of expected).) Nike:     Ma’am, can you describe those shorts to me please,…

I never understood those sea salt hair products. I got the opportunity to experiment with “the real and organic” sea salt for two weeks and still don’t get it. My hair is as matted as our cat’s underbelly. I will try to talk our cat into letting me take his grooming appt when I get back to Seattle. I am considering wearing a shower cap every time I go to the cockpit. Day 7 – Guinness world record in washing hair. The freshwater future on the boat is quite uncertain at this point and I have to get a little creative. How about shooting a useless time-wasting self-absorbed YouTube video?…

Day 5 –Jim wakes me up from an afternoon nap by tugging at my ankle. We have a stowaway!  Trump better build his promised gold-plated wall quickly, we are not even safe even in our own boat! I crawl upstairs, bleary-eyed, and try to make sense of the situation. The stowaway happens to be a bird resembling a blue-footed boobie, which I have seen in Galapagos, but with yellow feet. He seems to have his right wing injured and refuses to eat my fried breadfruit. Also, he tries to bite Pierre when he offers him some fried eggs.  Apparently, we have morally offended him by offering eggs. The bird is…