Just having a heck of a time at sea

Today, I made oatmeal today for everyone. In it, I put raisins, dates, honey, and cinnamon. I threw up for the first two days, but am 100% now. The stars are amazing at night in the middle of the ocean. We’ve traveled 399 miles, 745 to go. No wildlife other than birds. These birds are clearly insane. But to be fair to the birds, I’m not certain what is real, anymore. Vivid nightmares always. Captain Clark gave me a copy of The Fountainhead in a dream. He offered Atlas Shrugged as well, but I said I’d already ready it. A lie.

This e-mail was delivered via satellite phone using OCENS’s OCENS.Mail software. Please be kind and keep your replies short.


Yes, sailing will happen today.

If you drop your shovel, you can still dig a serviceable watery grave, I understand. I hope to remain as composed as The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. A Fresh Prince of Bel-Air of the sea. Until ________.

Sail Tomorrow, Likely

The idea is that tomorrow I will float away with three other humans on a sail boat, from Opua, New Zealand, where I have been for a couple weeks. We've been prepping the boat and awaiting the best weather opportunity for the probably seven to ten day journey to Fiji. There is a spear gun, a chess set, and a Magic Bullet blender on board, among many other items.

The very idea of the undertaking is amazing, and stirs an imagination right up–that's what you're likely experiencing as we speak, a stirred up imagination. Many will be the time while reading accounts of my journey that you will experience an imagination stirring, so, you're welcome in advance for all of these vicarious experiences I'm offering here, and their associated feelings of at times mirth, wonder, suspense, horror, The Horror, malaise, ennui, and many other felt experiences I don't want to ruin for you by disclosing at this time. Here you already have a practical example of the soon to be experienced suspense.

You may want to notify your family and colleagues that you are reading a travel blog. Tell them to expect a distinctive lilt in your step in the coming weeks, a bit more nail-biting than usual–both just two examples of the associated behavioral manifestations which often crop up as after effects of these stirred imaginings you'll soon be experiencing.


We’d be wise to worry less about goblins

I like to kind of keep my eyes open and sort of look for things in the world and kind of think, “Oh, so it's like this, like at first glance? But if I take a hard look at it and really open my eyes, is there more to it?”
Like once I saw a crosswalk sign go from green to red, and right after that a car went by and I thought, “I was just about to go into the street, then that car came by, I could have been killed, but the crosswalk went red first. What is the universe trying to tell me?”
So, again, it was brought to my attention the level of unchecked ferocity in animals that we imagine are tame or domesticated, or bred into “submission.” Take the piglet for example? There's almost no sense of concern on its face for the person her mother is biting. Her pie-faced, blasé acceptance of matters is as horrifying as any goblin. We laugh at goblins, just because the word “goblin” is funny, but imagine seeing a real goblin and how scary that would be.
Now turn your attention back to the piglet. Down the line, after infection sets in, or emotional distress, what this piglet's mom is doing may kill the person who has this leg. Remember how scary a real goblin was earlier? A goblin who before you knew it was a real goblin was just a funny word for an imaginary thing?
Multiply that goblin horror by maybe a million and you've got a pig. Pigs are provably real. Now look at that pig's kid, the piglet, and imagine how things will be in a world run by the piglet's generation. A lot of contingencies till the worldwide pig takeover etc., etc., but. Just food for thought.
A lot of people will go, “Oh, but that piglet is embarrassed by his mom, she's gonna break the chain,” or whatever. Just, wake up.


“Ahoy,” of course, is the first word.

I am in New Zealand, and have been for a bit more than a week.  So many monsters and giants, but they keep to themselves.  A little dog on the dock snapped at my heels and I cowered behind another man, in terror.  Think it was a terrier.  Took a hard look in the mirror afterward re: judging giants and monsters but not “domesticated” animals which are the real threat.  The Shark-men keep to themselves as well.  Preconceived notions are all being put to the test.