It hasn't been dark outside the ship for at least two days now. The sun may have set (I didn't notice), but it has definitely not gotten dark like a true nighttime. It seems like afternoon all the time. This is especially unusual when I look down the hall toward the Charleston Club in the late evening, when they're having their nightclub-like dance parties, since the blue sky is clearly visible through the windows beyond the moving, colored spotlights. It's hard to get into the mood to go to sleep, that's for sure.
I just got a couple of names from the Purser's desk of some interesting people that I need to get in touch with soon. One is Olle Carlson, one of the Zodiac drivers, who is the person who's drawn the cartoons on the cover of several of our daily bulletins. I want to get his permission to use one or two of the cartoons in my exhibit.
The other person, who I'm a little less sure about, is Jim Bruton, who is supposedly using the radio room to send reports back to a classroom in the U.S. (I think). I'm interested in talking to him about that. (How he's doing it, what he's writing to them about, whether it's a one-way or two-way conversation, etc.)
Now I just have to think of the best way to approach these people.
With the wind blowing hard (and very cold), it was difficult to take a good picture. I hope at least a few of them turn out.
At this point, I replaced roll C with roll B (Canon).
This evening was the passenger masquerade parade and talent show. Oh god, how did I make it through it...? The masquerade section was kind of cute, actually, and the first couple of acts in the talent show weren't that bad either. But then the rest came... I thought I was going to cry (or scream out in pain). There was one singing act and a cello solo that I almost wasn't able to sit through. I just had to keep in mind that these people were brave enough to get up in front of everyone and try to entertain, and put a good face to it.
This evening I've chosen the Palm Court for my end-of-the-day recap and meditation. I guess that's the best word for it: staring out at the sea, always in motion, always changing...
There are clouds again, so I'm not sure if the sun has set or not. It seems like a gray afternoon right now; nothing like an hour from midnight. There are a few smaller icebergs out on the horizon, and an occasional ice chunk floating nearer to the ship. I tiny bit of blue sky peeping through the clouds. The horizon ahead is dark, suggesting another snow squall. We've been having them every few hours. They come up quickly, drop a bunch of small, dry snowflakes, then disappear just as quickly letting the sun come out for a few minutes. Then, more gray clouds.
The sea is very calm this evening. Only a few whitecaps out there: maybe every tenth wave or so has them.
Tomorrow I'll have to check out these people whose names I received today. I'll also have to try to resend my FAX to SILS, which failed this afternoon. I'm not sure if I gave them the wrong number or if someone turned off the FAX machine for the weekend at SILS. Since I won't be able to send mail from Scott Base or McMurdo Station, this is the next best thing... We'll also send one to Norma at Kimberley Travel, thanking her for the fruit and the gift in our account, and letting her know what a great time we're having.