Wind

Well.  The wind is still howling in the rigging and it seems as if the pitching and rolling will never end.  Once again, even from my office I can hear the low moan coming from the wires of a boat davit on the starboard side, as well as the rush of wind against the hull.  The midnight deck watch just stumbled in from outside.  He's half-frozen and windblown.  Tough to walk on deck in this shit.  Tough to do anything, really.  Showering was a workout tonight.  This weather even puts the table tennis tournament on hold, much to our dismay.  I think that this will give the crew time to organize some betting on the outcome, however.  I'm not above dropping a Ben Franklin on who I see as the dark horse.
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Rumors abound concerning the end of job and when we can finally leave this motherfucker of an ocean.  The currently favored rumor of course has us leaving soon.  I wouldn't shed a tear if we left tomorrow.  This place is tough and sitting here watching my coffee mug slide back and forth, I'm ready to head North.
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We're out of yogurt.

Peace