SEA-SICKNESS

Te Ao Hou, September 1960, Page 36

SEA-SICKNESS The weather was rough and our bunks wouldn't lie still. What a miserable feeling it is! There you lie sound in body and in mind and soon a slight dizziness overcomes you. Your legs seem to wither with every step you take. Then you smell the diesel oil of the engines. You hold on to your stomach. You rush to the nearest basin. You go backwards and forwards, up and down, and you are lucky if you reach the basin. It was the one time when I was sick and I didn't want any sympathy in my misery. I didn't want to go anywhere. I just wanted to lie down. The cabin steward visited us too frequently. “You must get up to the main deck. You must not lie here.” He made us furious! He made it sound as though it were a weakness to succumb to seasickness. We could not have reached the main deck if we had tried. It took much energy even to reach the basin. So we lay there. I wanted to go back to New Zealand. I thought the cabin was a dirty, stinking hole. I forgot the charm of the Italian waters. I saw only the bottom of the top bunk pressing down on me. I could smell the dirty oil. I could feel the ceaseless vibration from the unsympathetic ship's engines. And I was sick again. On the fourth day at sea, we felt a little better. We dragged ourselves up to the main deck and we breathed very deeply. We looked at the still horizon. We looked down at the restless waves and slowly our feeling for life returned.