A narrative of todays events, with visual aids provided by hungover owls.
So, girlfriend's family was going out for a whale-watch as a joint birthday present and of course we were invited. It sounded like fun, and we had other things to do in Boston, so we went for it. As a warning, girlfriend mentioned that she had a long history of sea-sickness on previous whale-watches, but her general tendency for motion sickness had drastically decreased since then. I, meanwhile, had never really been properly sea-sick on any of the boat-related activities I had taken part in. Visual Aid 1
So we get on the boat and head out of the harbor, and we're both fine. We have snacks, enjoy the fine view of Boston harbor, and are generally fine. We have a nice seat outside, we're watching the ocean, and we get further out. The see roughens up a bit, but I'm ok. Girlfriend starts to feel it a bit and begins staring determinedly at the horizon. Visual Aid 2
Since the whales did not seem to be forthcoming, the captain apparently decided to go further out to sea. This was a bad plan.
We get further out and the waves get bigger and nastier. The boat starts zig-zagging in some sort of search pattern. At this point even I'm starting to be a little off. Visual Aid 3. Then we start taking some really crazy turns crosswise to the waves for reasons entirely unclear to me. At this point they're telling people to get off the bow and hang on to the railings and things are generally unpleasant. I start feeling really off, but I'm still holding to together, and then I'm like "I'm going to run in and get some ginger candy or something" and girlfriend is like "yes ok still staring at the horizon."
Bad idea. Italics bad idea. BOLD ITALICS CAPSLOCK BAD IDEA. Visual Aid 4.
So after losing my lunch over the side of the rail (as about 1/3 of the boat does the same into conveniently provided baggies that I didn't get.), I kind of hang on to the rail for dear life, giving the same death-stare to the horizon. Meanwhile the spray comes up and drenches me and the boat turns around, meaning we're suddenly in the shade, wind, and wet. And yet, we are paralyzed by misery. Visual Aid 5.
Eventually we manage to stumble over to the sunny side, still staring madly at the horizon. As we get closer to Boston, the water evens out and the ride gets smoother. I am shivering like crazy at this point, and I am not one to ever feel cold. I eventually am forced to go inside just out of hypothermia, and I'm pretty goddamn miserable, with girlfriend's family worridly taking care of me (having done the same for girlfriend many a time).
Eventually, we make it back to dock, stumble off, decide we are taking the rest of the day at my parents' house to recuperate and taking tomorrow as a goddamn sick-day to drive home. I'm just now getting back to some semblance of OK, and she's still kind of conked out, even though she somehow never actually threw up. More experience with being seasick, I suppose, though I don't envy her for it.
Also, it may not have been the most professional thing I've ever written, but I started the e-mail to my boss explaining I was taking tomorrow as a sick day with "Due to a series of events that will probably be amusing in retrospect...."
And that was my day.
So we get on the boat and head out of the harbor, and we're both fine. We have snacks, enjoy the fine view of Boston harbor, and are generally fine. We have a nice seat outside, we're watching the ocean, and we get further out. The see roughens up a bit, but I'm ok. Girlfriend starts to feel it a bit and begins staring determinedly at the horizon. Visual Aid 2
Since the whales did not seem to be forthcoming, the captain apparently decided to go further out to sea. This was a bad plan.
We get further out and the waves get bigger and nastier. The boat starts zig-zagging in some sort of search pattern. At this point even I'm starting to be a little off. Visual Aid 3. Then we start taking some really crazy turns crosswise to the waves for reasons entirely unclear to me. At this point they're telling people to get off the bow and hang on to the railings and things are generally unpleasant. I start feeling really off, but I'm still holding to together, and then I'm like "I'm going to run in and get some ginger candy or something" and girlfriend is like "yes ok still staring at the horizon."
Bad idea. Italics bad idea. BOLD ITALICS CAPSLOCK BAD IDEA. Visual Aid 4.
So after losing my lunch over the side of the rail (as about 1/3 of the boat does the same into conveniently provided baggies that I didn't get.), I kind of hang on to the rail for dear life, giving the same death-stare to the horizon. Meanwhile the spray comes up and drenches me and the boat turns around, meaning we're suddenly in the shade, wind, and wet. And yet, we are paralyzed by misery. Visual Aid 5.
Eventually we manage to stumble over to the sunny side, still staring madly at the horizon. As we get closer to Boston, the water evens out and the ride gets smoother. I am shivering like crazy at this point, and I am not one to ever feel cold. I eventually am forced to go inside just out of hypothermia, and I'm pretty goddamn miserable, with girlfriend's family worridly taking care of me (having done the same for girlfriend many a time).
Eventually, we make it back to dock, stumble off, decide we are taking the rest of the day at my parents' house to recuperate and taking tomorrow as a goddamn sick-day to drive home. I'm just now getting back to some semblance of OK, and she's still kind of conked out, even though she somehow never actually threw up. More experience with being seasick, I suppose, though I don't envy her for it.
Also, it may not have been the most professional thing I've ever written, but I started the e-mail to my boss explaining I was taking tomorrow as a sick day with "Due to a series of events that will probably be amusing in retrospect...."
And that was my day.