The constant repeating of chores and daily plans fills each day with confusion. Confusion of knowing which time of day and of the week it is.
Sometimes I get lost with months as well. Although, I am assured that we have been out on open sea for a longer time than this before. I guess that the constant calculating of the time left according to what knop we go each day is a reminder of the period left, which I would rather have a clear answer on from the crew but I understand that it is not possible. They really do their best to find the best route possible for us to travel back to Sweden by.
I would like to say that our time on Gunilla is more exciting than it might be. But of course, I have been living on this boat for approximately two months and therefore I have gotten used to the life onboard. When I try to see it from another perspective, I figure that my use of the word normal differs from you who are reading. The normal of starting movie-marathons, at the time Harry Potter, at 8:00 pm after four hours of watch in darkness and in a golden sunrise, the normal to, for a two hours long period, use sandpaper on the same rusty spot without questioning why and the normal of climbing the mast and watch dolphins jump from above whilst packing sails or taring in blue overalls with the wind in your hair.
I guess I do not have the right to complain. On the boat we are safe. Safe from the outside world which, by each day, are shutting down and making life troublesome. Surely, it has affected us since we are sailing for weeks on end because harbours will not let us in due to the fear of the virus.
With a crew, a pack of students and a teacher like ours this journey, I believe, will only get better with time. If, of course, the sweet candy and salty chips do not run out. If so, we are absolutely in for a tough ride home. Then again, we have thick skin on our noses from the voyages we have made before. It is a challenge, but it definitely is an adventure worthy of repeating for a lifetime.