We woke in a fog this morning of the kind that covers vast parts of the Atlantic at this time of the year. The sea was deceptively rough and the winds so strong that we weren’t allowed outside, even if we had been able to open the doors against the force of the wind. The ship would bounce and wallow every now and then and the occasional creaking protest could be heard from some of the joinery, but apart from being confined to the indoors, and all aboard experiencing certain difficulty in walking in a straight line, business continued in it’s normal happy state.
While leaving a dining room this morning, a lady who was somewhat more diminutive than I and of significantly more advanced years lurched quite violently in my direction following a sudden roll of the ship. Her movement was so sudden that we only avoided a nasty collision because I was mid-lurch at the time myself.
With a smile in my voice, I asked what she had taken with her breakfast orange juice. Temporarily recovering her balance, she confided that actually she thought in her case it might still be the effects of last night’s Gin and without stopping for breath enquired as to what might be my excuse.
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