Day 84,
What we thought was land last week turned out to be only a
mirage because we have not been able to spot it since then. I crave stepping
onto solid land...
I know I am an adventurer and adventure is my middle name
but surely that does not mean being suspended between the sky and the sea for
extended periods of time. Some time a sailor needs a place to hang his hat..
A
cot of one’s own and a mess to cook one’s meals in without having to deal with
wondering seagulls and seals. Just a place where one can feel at home, which
certainly is not on a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic.
I suppose I am grateful about the things we do have: the makeshift
shelter of our cramped quarters, the friendly nature of the animals visiting us
and the kind rays of the sun which dry our damp clothing from time to time.
Yes, remembering Pionus First Class, I suppose this does definitely beats being
dead... then again, who really knows.
The only thing we can hold onto is the
hope for a better tomorrow and that will be the shining light I choose to focus
on, as a lay down to sleep on this rainy night.
May Providence remember us,
Bosom Mate Evenson
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