day 125: scabrous dogs
Bula, Megan here. It is the final night of our passage, unless the ocean swallows us up. We have placed bets as to what time we will arrive in Suva: I am the most optimistic, submitting a 10:30am ETA; Naomi is the most pessimistic (and unfortunately also the most experienced), and thinks we’ll arrive around 4pm; Jamie and Miriam hedged their bets in between. As of the end of my watch, I’m feeling secure with my bet, but fortunes can change very quickly out here.
We had a rainy day. My morning shift was all rain, 3 hours of it, and my feet turned white and soft, the skin ill fitting. When I went out to relieve Jamie, he hurried past me, explaining he wanted to get out of the rain. Poor chap, I had thought, he must have suffered the same death by a thousand drops. I found out later that it had only just started raining when I emerged, and the precious thing just didn’t want to get wet at all. I suppose the 3-6 shift takes enough from you. We had a rainy day of movies, motoring, motu and mmmmMegan’s chilli for dinner. I finally made chilli after threatening it for so long.
It’s the final night of our passage to Fiji, my final night of any passage, and I want to remember it, to write it down, to show you - look, this was our passage and this was its end. I usually come off my shift to a finished draft blog, but tonight it’s just me. I guess that’s part of what passage is - time feels irrelevant, even when you’re running to it. It’s hard to hold onto. You couldn’t look at us and know that it is our last night. We could be here forever. And I don’t think I’ll realise that we won’t be until the day breaks, the pass embraces us, and our legs buckle on solid ground (a sensation I’m very excited to add to my collection). Maybe that’s when I’ll be able to turn around and say something about the end.
So until that time, ni sa moce - Bluebird out.