Monday July 24.
Lat 39° 59’ N. Long
10° 47’ W. 306 miles travelled during 24 hours till noon today.
Today has been a day of cause and effect. After rounding Cape
Finisterre we have been sailing practically due south. This means that the
waves strike us now broadside on – causing the ship to roll from side to side
instead of the usual pitching and tossing. This is cause 1. Suggestion from
stories, from the behaviour of others probably contributed its share
Effect: Mal de Mer.
This is a malady which effects those that go down to the sea
in ships – particularly in the early days of their going down. It may be
divided into the following stages:
1 - Feeling.
2 - Being.
3 - Convalescence.
The onset may be sudden or gradual – usually there are
premonitory signs. Stage 1 may be protracted over a period of hours or even
days. Stage 2 is usually followed by a rapid recovery. The malady resembles
appendicitis in raising the patient (or victim) to a higher state of fitness
than was his case before the onset of the condition. Now let us pass from the
general to the particular:
Woke about 6.0 am feeling uncomfortable, decided to remain
in bed instead of attempting breakfast. Retrogressed during the morning and by
midday saw everything with a “well jaundiced eye”. My cabin had become a
miserable cupboard, the ship a place well-nigh on impossible to live in, and
the sea – oh well I did allow the sea to remain, but the ship: if only it could
roll clean over at least the monotony would be relieved!
Everything was annoying: the very roundness of the portholes
was most irritating and the squareness of the doors & straightness of the
deck planks almost unbearable. I got up at 1.0, stayed on deck till 7.0pm;
then, omitting stage 2 altogether, suddenly passed through a rapid convalescence,
took a walk, went down to dinner, ate a hearty meal, returned to bed fit and woke
feeling fitter. Now my cabin is a jolly little room: the ship is A1 and the
world a better place than even it was before.
The only thing I fancied this
morning was a big helping of mother’s kidney pudding (with plenty of pudding). The
thought of fish nearly drove
me silly. Now I feel I’m cured I could eat cod in a storm – and enjoy it.
Let the good ship corkscrew and twist as much as it likes –
I care not now – I like it – at least so I feel at present: if we had a real
storm my opinion might alter.
At any rate “where ignorance is bliss…”
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