The day began as any other, at half past three when we awoke to make sure we weren’t going to be late to the formation at four o’clock.
That day I was, along with Hannes, backis, which meant he and I aided the two chefs in preparing the meals and tea/snack-breaks. Our task for the day was to make scones for the rest of our watch. I can with ease say that we both need to up our scones game, but the half-pleased faces of the others in the team indicated that we at least passed the test. After the making of breakfast, I crashed directly into my berth and continued reading the Complete Works of H.P Lovecraft, in which he spends the first one hundred pages, or ten chapters, writing about the history of the ‘weird horror tale’, and how few good ‘weird horror authors’ there have existed. As expected, I quickly got lulled into sleep during the part where Lovecraft shower continuous praise over how Edgar Allan Poe revolutionised the modern way of writing the weird horror tale.
I awoke a few hours later at lunch time and decided that I had enough of Mr. Lovecraft and his endless ramblings about the fine art of horror literature, and chose to read another book. At four o’clock sharp, Hannes and I returned to aiding the chefs with conducting dinner for the ship and afterwards cleaning the mess we made.
Heedless to me being induced to sleep by my book, the spirit on the boat feels to be on an all-time high, everyone has gotten used to the rolling of the sea and to the ungodly hours which we are forced to wake. Gunilla is starting to feel like a home.