Steward's Log; April 28, 2014

Surely madness is reeling thus. Having delivered our stores of crude to St. John's, we press towards Lewisporte, some 17 hours away. Upon overtaking the hugging, bosomed crags of St. John's secretive harbour, the vessel began to heave mightily, and in fact has scarcely ceased to do so since. Never before have I experienced such a thrashing, as my very notions of gravity and the physical world have been redefined this day upon the sea. My view out of the wheelhouse's main entryway was of blue sky followed sternly by the crashing waves, and to and fro again as the booming swells made a mockery of our massive, steel hull. Despite our rig's impressive size, it is at the mercy of the sea, as its now-empty bilges allow it to be careened lightly and effortlessly by the impending waves.
The crew has remained largely unfazed, and they laughingly warn of a sleepless night ahead for all hands - as though such a course is one to take joy in. This lolling is of second nature to them, seasoned privateers as they are. I, however, am showing my green colours in relation to my sailing experience, yet not in terms of my pallor or complexion! Fortunately, my meals as yet have remained within me, and seasickness has not affected its discomforts upon me. I must admit that I find myself both surprised and elated at this discovery, and I maintain hope that my fortitude in this matter will hold its stead. Although my physical limitations are comfortable enough, my mental stature was tried tenfold throughout the day, as this constant listing proved an extreme frustration to my stewarding duties. The rolling vessel transforms the simplest of tasks into harrowing feats, as standing braced becomes a chore, each step feels uphill, and the mere exercise of sitting in a chair may become a sudden danger.
Pots and pans clattered about and a boiler of rice very nearly fell to the galley deck. It was at this time that I suggested to the chief cook that we shut off the main fat fryers, as they suddenly seemed a tremendous hazard. A glass bowl upended itself and shattered in my pantry, and all manner of loose items had to be hurriedly secured and lashed by the crew. These complications seemed to recreate themselves at the roughest of patches, as fresh threats presented themselves. The crew assures me that should we enter ice, our voyage will become more tolerable as the hulking floes will disrupt, and therefore weaken, incoming swells. However, I see many pans of ice beyond my cabin window at this very moment, and yet I feel no merits of their supposed effectiveness. They are beautiful however, and truly serene in this desolate locale.
Despite a staggering number of curses uttered today on my behalf, I remain entranced by the sea, and respect more than ever both its unfettered tranquility and savage tumultuousness. Suffice it to say, I keenly await landfall on the morrow.