To be at sea (idiomatic verb phrase):
1. To literally sail on the sea in a boat or ship. A: “Is your mother at sea yet?” B: “Yes, her cruise lasts several weeks.”
2. To be puzzled, perplexed, or completely confused (about a subject or some task at hand). I tried to do well in this class, but I’ve been at sea since we started.


Dearest Rachel –
Since we’re veterans at this sort of thing (although not nearly in comparison to most other people on this ship) we’re not exactly at sea when it comes to being at sea. Then again, this is a whole different boat to be in, when you come down to it. Compared to our first cruise on the Rhapsody of the Seas (I wasn’t with you when you and your folks traveled to Alaska on the World Explorer, so I can’t speak for that; heck, I can’t even find information about that ship, to be honest), the Quest is a hundred meters shorter, seven meters narrower, less than half as heavy, and carries barely a quarter the number of passengers. And the Rhapsody was one of the smaller ships we’d traveled on.
In short, this ship is absolutely tiny in comparison to our general experience, although again, I don’t know how it compares to your first trip on a cruise ship. To be sure, the preferred word to describe it is ‘intimate,’ but I’m trying not to use marketing euphemisms or serious pejoratives (Daniel refers to it as being ‘dinky,’ which may well be true, but it’s also a bit uncharitable). Besides, I’m not sure we’re exactly up for an ‘intimate’ cruising experience.
But regardless of what adjectives you apply, there’s no denying that it is an experience – and we’re not even twenty-four hours into it. We’ve already discovered that the ship’s small size makes it considerably more conducive to rocking, from fore to aft as well as from side to side. Had you only known about this, you would have been all over a trip like this; this is the sort of motion that the modern mega ships lack (in your opinion) such that you also had a transoceanic trip on your bucket list, just so that you could feel the roll and pitch of the sea again. Here, we can still vaguely see the mountains of Honshu five or six miles off to port (at least, if we squint; I’m not going to include a photo, as it doesn’t really do the horizon justice, any more than it does the crowds at Asakusa).

It’s such that I have to keep informing my phone that I’m not driving, and that it doesn’t have to lock me out to keep me safe while I’m using it. It’s only slightly disorienting, too, that momentary experience of weightlessness, followed by a similar burst of what Daniel calls weightfullness (and I approve of the neologism) with just about every other step. You’d be mildly amused, I’m sure.
The bright sunniness of the midday actually got me thinking of going swimming; or, at least, having a good long soak in the hot tub. The thing is, it’s still April – and early April, no less – so it’s a bit chilly out. Not that any of this would’ve stopped you, and since it’s the one time in the middle of the day (when the sun is at its highest) that I can take advantage of this, I go up to the pool deck in your honor.

You might remember our first search trip as a family (again to Alaska, just like the one you took with your parents before I was a part of your life), and how we had the pool to ourselves from time to time back then. Admittedly, this doesn’t have the same viceral effect as when we were splashing around with a canyon of glaciers passing us on either side, but it’s still something to effectively be the king of infinite space, if only for a half hour or so. It may only be some sixty degrees in the windy air, but the water is warmer than body temperature, and thus is quite comfortable.
Really, there’s so much about this that you would’ve loved. I wish you could’ve been here, and not just for the usual obvious reasons… although I won’t deny that they’re always back of mind.
Anyway, I need to get back to the room and check on Daniel; not that I expect that he’s gone anywhere, but I still shouldn’t leave him by himself all the time. In the meantime, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

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