Day 7
As you can see, we've crossed the equator. I am now in the southern hemisphere. And apparently we are ahead of schedule because tomorrow is Neptune Day. The ritual that happens when you cross the equator at sea for the first time takes place then. I am not allowed to tell you what that ritual is because it's secret. Almost like a hazing. That sounds ominous, huh? Now you're intrigued. Maybe I'll say something more about that after tomorrow, but for now I'll stick to things that have already happened.
I want to talk about taking a shower on a boat. This is a difficult task. First of all, the shower is miniscule. I have to be careful so I don't hit my elbows on the walls when I'm shampooing. On the plus side, this shower seems bigger than the one I had when I went on the cruise with Grandmother.
However, it is still very slippery in there. Tiles: they're a hazard. We don't have any of those little rubber gripper stickers shaped like fish or flowers or what have you. We don't have a mat either. Now add the rocking of the boat. That equation equals treacherous. Personally, I lift my feet up one at a time to wash them. There are times when I need to use the wall for balance on steady ground. So I'm surprised I haven't ended up in a mess on our bathroom floor yet, especially since we only have a shower curtain, not a solid door to catch me.
The crew has instructed us to keep our bathroom doors closed when we shower. The reason for this is twofold: all doors on the boat must be kept closed to prevent them from slamming and squishing a person, and steam sets off the fire detectors. It would be rather embarrassing if you step out of the shower to find crew in your room because they thought there was a fire. I just thought that was amusing.
I have also been practicing water conservation. I figured it was important to practice what you preach; plus I remember Annette saying she would shower with two cups of water when she and Ed were sailing because otherwise they would run out. Not that I think this boat will run out of water; I'm sure they have tons. But maybe they won't have to get so much the next time we fill up. So, I turn on the water when I get in to get all wet. Then I turn it off to shampoo, rinse, turn it off again to put in conditioner and lather up. Then I just have to use it to rinse again. I know it's way more than two cups, but I'm sure I save a few gallons that way.
So that's what showers are like on a boat. Stay tuned for using the internet.
Lat: 00° 33.8W Long: 36° 46.4W
I had to add to this. The toilet is also an experience on a boat. When you flush, you had better hope you closed the lid because the suction on those suckers are probably as strong as the gravitational pull of a black hole. People who have been on boats, am I right? They're scary.
We also have a warning above our toilet, which reads: NO FOREIGN OBJECTS IN TOILET PLEASE. And this part is why I want to change my major to Sign Graphic Designer–the picture below shows someone dropping a bottle and a piece of paper into the toilet with the do-not-do sign on top of it. Who puts bottles in the toilet? Well, Riley does, but I think that was a one-time thing. They should have put a picture of something more logical. Things people typically try to flush when they shouldn't. Hair balls, expired prescription drugs, legal documents, cocaine, pet alligators that have grown too large, that kind of thing. That would make sense.
As you can see, we've crossed the equator. I am now in the southern hemisphere. And apparently we are ahead of schedule because tomorrow is Neptune Day. The ritual that happens when you cross the equator at sea for the first time takes place then. I am not allowed to tell you what that ritual is because it's secret. Almost like a hazing. That sounds ominous, huh? Now you're intrigued. Maybe I'll say something more about that after tomorrow, but for now I'll stick to things that have already happened.
I want to talk about taking a shower on a boat. This is a difficult task. First of all, the shower is miniscule. I have to be careful so I don't hit my elbows on the walls when I'm shampooing. On the plus side, this shower seems bigger than the one I had when I went on the cruise with Grandmother.
However, it is still very slippery in there. Tiles: they're a hazard. We don't have any of those little rubber gripper stickers shaped like fish or flowers or what have you. We don't have a mat either. Now add the rocking of the boat. That equation equals treacherous. Personally, I lift my feet up one at a time to wash them. There are times when I need to use the wall for balance on steady ground. So I'm surprised I haven't ended up in a mess on our bathroom floor yet, especially since we only have a shower curtain, not a solid door to catch me.
The crew has instructed us to keep our bathroom doors closed when we shower. The reason for this is twofold: all doors on the boat must be kept closed to prevent them from slamming and squishing a person, and steam sets off the fire detectors. It would be rather embarrassing if you step out of the shower to find crew in your room because they thought there was a fire. I just thought that was amusing.
I have also been practicing water conservation. I figured it was important to practice what you preach; plus I remember Annette saying she would shower with two cups of water when she and Ed were sailing because otherwise they would run out. Not that I think this boat will run out of water; I'm sure they have tons. But maybe they won't have to get so much the next time we fill up. So, I turn on the water when I get in to get all wet. Then I turn it off to shampoo, rinse, turn it off again to put in conditioner and lather up. Then I just have to use it to rinse again. I know it's way more than two cups, but I'm sure I save a few gallons that way.
So that's what showers are like on a boat. Stay tuned for using the internet.
Lat: 00° 33.8W Long: 36° 46.4W
I had to add to this. The toilet is also an experience on a boat. When you flush, you had better hope you closed the lid because the suction on those suckers are probably as strong as the gravitational pull of a black hole. People who have been on boats, am I right? They're scary.
We also have a warning above our toilet, which reads: NO FOREIGN OBJECTS IN TOILET PLEASE. And this part is why I want to change my major to Sign Graphic Designer–the picture below shows someone dropping a bottle and a piece of paper into the toilet with the do-not-do sign on top of it. Who puts bottles in the toilet? Well, Riley does, but I think that was a one-time thing. They should have put a picture of something more logical. Things people typically try to flush when they shouldn't. Hair balls, expired prescription drugs, legal documents, cocaine, pet alligators that have grown too large, that kind of thing. That would make sense.
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