On this day there was little to do so I wrote in my journal. Here is the actual writing from that day.
Last night was very rough, but the combination of sleep and a patch made it no big deal. In fact the sensation of being pushed into the bed by the various forces is quite nice. The seas remain rough today, but not as bad. We are allowed out on the upper decks, but lower decks remain closed.
I'm copying 1949 photos to a backup disk.
People are making plans for how to stay in contact and what other interesting things they could do in their lives.
I'm not really sure how or why to return to real life. This life is pretty good. It's hard to remember that a lot of money is being spent right now, the money that was earned at the job to which we'll return.
This adventure will be hard to explain to others. It's hard to remember, already, the details of each day. We did so much in a very little time and so many beautiful things. I would have liked more time at each place to experience the details, watch the subtle changes. This was a taste, an appetizer, and I'm hungry for more.
The grandeur of all that we saw, it is impossible to relate in photos or words. It is what we saw and smelt that are the largest stimuli. The weather was not particularly outrageous but the height of the mountains, the quantity of ice and snow, the vast number of penguins and the smell of their shit, these things exceed limits.
Late at night, in the bar, I bought a razor, borrowed Sean's beard trimmer and got rid of my beard. The beard was there for Antarctica and now the trip is nearing its end so it is time for the beard to be gone. I've shed years.
I would like a more lengthy time in Antarctica. Time enough to follow the details as the seasons change, as the ice melts and builds, as the penguin chicks mature