Captain West has dozed on the cabin sofa or read the Bible.
Miss West is still sea-sick.

I have tired myself out with reading, and the fuzziness of my unsleeping brain makes for melancholy.

Even Wada is anything but a cheering spectacle, crawling out of his bunk, as he does at stated intervals, and with sick, glassy eyes trying to discern what my needs may be.

I almost wish I could get sea-sick myself.

I had never dreamed that a sea voyage could be so unenlivening as this one is proving..