An excerpt from Indo

I awoke to my bed rising up and down and moving side to side like a bad rollercoaster ride. My bed was in the front of the bow and was experiencing the worst of the rough seas. In a dazed state I looked around to see the rest of our crew amazed and somewhat worried by the slamming of the boat against the waves. Some were asleep and some had pale looks on their faces. I carefully climbed my way up stairs to the small dining area where a feast of calamari and fried fish laid untouched. No ones stomachs could bare the thought of eating. I sat by myself on the floor of the boat where I thought I might experience the least amount of movement. I felt like a rag doll being tossed around as I tried to tell myself I was not beginning to feel nauseous. With each slam of the bow on the ocean shit flew across the kitchen. Plates, fried fish, coca cola, and bintang cans were scattered across the floor. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting before Trevor stumbled into the kitchen and took one look at the food before grabbing a plate and piling fish and calamari onto it. My positive thoughts against my nausea were replaced with thoughts of puking as I watched him shovel the greasy food into his mouth. I lay down on the uncomfortable floor trying to ignore his eating. Then Jed struggled up the stairs and hopped over me with a pale ghostly look on his face. A few seconds later I heard the gut wrenching sound of vomiting coming from the rear of the boat. That was the end of any positive thoughts and I began to welcome the nauseous feeling in my stomach knowing that I would be joining Jed soon. I didn’t last long and within ten minutes I stammered out onto the back of the boat. Jed was slumped over in one corner with his head hung over the low railing. Water rushed through the holes in the back of the boat and the smell of exhaust filled my nostrils. After a minute of aimlessly staring at the wall and breathing fumes, my mouth began to water profusely. This always happened before I vomited so I braced myself as the boat pounded over more swells. I tried to position myself low and get a good grip on the railing to prevent myself from falling overboard. Rain and spray coming of off the bow pelted me in the face as I struggled to brace myself. I barely got my head over the railing before I heaved several times and a few meals went flying into the Indian Ocean. As I vomited I couldn’t help but fear falling overboard and being gone forever. With this thought in my head I clenched the railing tighter and tighter with each abdomen-crunching wave of vomit. Once I was finished I stood up. I was drenched in sweat and salt water and I looked over at Jed as he tossed a water bottle on the deck near my feet. My throat burned with stomach acid and the clean water couldn’t have felt more soothing. We struggled to stay on our feet for some time without uttering a word to one another. The next two times that I vomited barely anything came out. I merely hung my head over the railing dry heaving as though I was screaming back at the angry ocean. I tried not to think about falling overboard, but the thought kept circling back into my mind. Every once in a while Jed and I exchanged miserable glances. After my third or fourth time vomiting I crawled back inside soaking wet and lay down on the wet floor of the dining area. I felt like a drowned rat. I had no idea what time it was or where we were or when this nightmare would be over. I was tired and weak so I tried to ignore the miscellaneous objects that soared through the dining area and attempted to get some sort of rest.

------CoNNeR