My Personal Seaworthiness

I seem to be unaffected by seasickness, thank goodness! Annie Wong, the co-chief scientist, told me that 99% of all Asians she's taken on cruise tend to get sick. Luckily, I'm not just Asian, I'm Dan Park. I wrote a poem:

Pien has been up and down,
Cassandra is nowhere to be found,
and Dave has been reduced to a sack of potatoes.

Yesterday, we passed through the Roaring Forties--a seafaring term referring to the constant storms at that latitude--and sure, the ocean was rough, but that was nothing compared to the Roaring Fifties. I don't know what the Sixties are called, but I have a guess.

Let's see if I can describe the general sensation of being at sea:

From my bunk, which is located on a lower deck at the very front of the ship (for maximum discomfort), I can hear splashing and foaming as the Roger Revelle cuts through the water, and over that a consistent booming that sounds like cannon fire. That's caused by the waves crashing against the hull. The booms are unsettling, but the resulting creaks and rattles are terrifying. Dave's moaning is no good either. And my rat makes a little "chirk chirk" sound.

In the Roaring Forties, the motion of the ship was mostly that of pitching, or up-and-down motion. In the Roaring Fifties, rolling, or side-to-side motion, was added to the mix. Between the two, it's an awesome roller coaster; your body constantly feels either pressed against the deck or pulled to the ceiling. I'm told that we experience 0.2 Gs out here, meaning when we're cruising down the big waves we feel one-fifth of sea level gravity. The big ones, by my count, keep us falling for at least two seconds, maybe three. An interesting effect is you can feel your organs shifting about as well. My brain has been doing jumping jacks for about two days straight now.

Seasickness is generally caused by a mismatch between what your eyes see and what the balancing fluids in your inner ear feel. This is why staring at the horizon is as good a cure as any, and why staying inside is such a trip. It's quite fun, being inside: bouncing off walls, lurching around, hanging on for dear life while showering...

Usual forms of medication for seasickness include dramamine, scopolamine patches, acupressure wrist bracelets, and ginger candy. The ginger candy is tasty but bullshit, the acupressure bracelets are a hoax, and I'm scared of taking dramamine or scopolamine since they'll turn me into a zombie. That being said, I'm not scared of using the dramamine as a rat poison. I'll have to warn Dave not to eat the little pills in the corner.

Really, I highly recommend going to sea. The best part is: you constantly feel like you and everyone around you is drunk. The worst part is: no alcohol on the boat.