Sometimes I sit down with a blank screen and no focus for my thoughts and just see what pops out. This is one of those times. It feels like I might have something to say but damned if I know what it is!
Day 2 of 2022. I am at sea on a surprisingly cool day just trying to pass some time until the pace picks up with lunch and a talk to give this afternoon. I’m at sea instead of poking around Gustavia, St. Bart’s because the authorities there denied us permission to land. We have had a smattering of cases over the last week, none serious that I know of, and these little islands with limited resources to handle outbreaks among their own people simply aren’t taking any chances.
Every guest I have chatted with is okay with this change in itinerary, but I suspect we won’t be landing in Virgin Gorda tomorrow either, since the British Virgin Islands folks have been among the strictest about turning ships away. Really feeling for the crew, who have to keep happy faces painted on, when they may soon start disappearing from many guests’ public presentations of themselves if this starts turning into a cruise to nowhere.
I just focus on doing my job to the exacting standards I self-impose. That’s what keeps me grounded ( odd expression when at sea). However, I am increasingly glad to go no further than my balcony, or to a small, practically secret sun deck a few steps from my door.
Well, it turns out I really don’t have much to say. No finding of great meaning in any of this. That’s okay too. The year is still young.