Steward's Log; April 12, 2014

I have not brought sufficient pornography on board and this has grown rapidly apparent. I hear jocular discussions of shared external hard drives that are laden with smut, and though I believe these perversions might be shared should confidence among the crew be gained, I suspect that our tastes vastly differ.
I have deduced with equal quickness that I must populate my cabin with a plant, a fish, or both. Indeed, I would be happy to share my cabin with a cat, but it is my understanding that felines despise water. Perhaps I do as well. This, for the time being, remains undertermined as we remain moored here in the berg of Lewisporte, Newfoundland, Canada. As such, creature comforts are abound following a short walk to shore, and domestic plants may very well be available from a few named, local horticulturalists. The fish, I am told, may be less easily procured.
I am familiarizing myself with the crew, who seem a fine bunch. As of yet, none of them are aware of my lavish clothing, and I can only hope that I am not acutely dismissed as a 'fag' upon their revelation.
Alcohol is not allowed on board, yet it is readily available.
I peer out at the ice floes choking the harbour and to the expansive sea beyond, and I ponder when it is we shall meet.