Bowels of the Ship

Imagine lying in your bed drifting off into a peaceful sleep being gently rocked to and fro with the ocean's tide. Just as you fall into that sweet repose you hear a jarring siren roar from beneath your pillow. This is not just any siren, this is the ship engine's alarm. I only hear the alarm at night; I'm pretty sure the engineers wait until I have turned my reading light out and am just about to fall asleep and then set off the alarm. It is really a flawless system. I assume there is so kind of light in the engine room that is triggered by me turning my little reading light out. I mean, clearly, it's the only logical conclusion.

The first time I heard it was my first night on the ship. "Welcome to Mercy Africa. Good luck sorting out all the noises." During an orientation session a speaker was joking about ways to adjust to ship life. His suggestion was to bring your lawn mower into your kitchen, turn it on, and let it run for a week. That's probably a good start.

My cabin mates and I are also convinced that a Tyrannosaurus Rex lives within our plumbing. That may sound far-fetched to you, but then, you haven't heard him roar. About every 5 seconds that water runs, an extremely loud (louder than the engine alarm) sucking/roaring/whooshing sound happens. I also heard this noise on my first night as well. After flying for 20-some-odd hours, I desperately wanted a relaxing shower. It was one of the most frightening experiences I have had in a long time. I wasn't sure if I was going to be sucked down the drainpipe, if something was going to explode, or if I was going to be eaten by whatever lives down the drainpipe. Since then we have discovered that, yes, indeed, it is a T-Rex.

I've grown quite accustomed to the noises over the last six weeks. I have no idea how I am going to handle life without random alarms and sirens and without an engine vibrating beneath me. I may have to petition you all to blow horns and sound bells and the like in order for me to get any sleep at all. I will establish a schedule once I get home and let you know. Bring your own noisemaker. Not to mention, what I am going to do when I have more than 9 cubic feet of personal space? Right now if I reach out both of my arms, I can touch either wall of my cabin with room to spare. Comparatively speaking, I think ants have more personal space than I do. I must say though, that for someone who values her alone time and personal space, I really don't mind at all living in a matchbox. It all just makes me laugh and enjoy the experience that much more. I giggle thinking about all the things I thought I needed. Good coffee has remained high on the list though.