I am in my bunk and the ship is rolling in heavy swells. The sun is finally up after a long passage out of Havana yesterday at mid day, but the cabin goes dark when the porthole goes below the waterline - it is very disconcerting. We are heading West to round the tip of Cuba, but the wind and swell is from the north and the geometry makes for a very rocky boat. Everything is creaking and groaning, with ominous bangs from the dining lounge above, and I am ready for all this to end. Soon, I do make it up to the lounge to attempt breakfast, as do about a dozen of the fifty passengers, but I give up and come back down after toast and yogurt. The crew has minimal breakfast available but has their hands busy with roping up the dining chairs to prevent them from doing any damage. My stomach is ok and I have my fingers crossed but am pleased with the performance of my wrist bands compined with drugs. It is nearly impossible to stand. Our guide Olga comes up and says that she feels like she is in a laundromat when she looks at her porthole - I agree.
Things do settle down after we round the point around 11 o'clock, but Olga announces over the PA that the port of Maria la Gorda is closed to all ships due to weather conditions, and so we groan and sail on to Cayo Largo, an additional 18 hours away. There is plenty of deck space and although the day is breezy, it is now sunny and I will continue reading my book on the history of the Bacardi rum family. At 4:00, our Cuban guide Roberto promises to give a talk on 500 years of Cuban history, and I make a promise to myself to stay awake. He is a nice young man who works hard on his English but he has been seasick for a day so I don't know what to expect.
