One Long Wednesday

Dearest Rachel –

One of the quirks about sea travel is that one’s phone does not update automatically with regard to what time it is. Updates occur when we arrive at one port or another, not when you’re crossing a time zone at sea. Ordinarily, this isn’t much of an issue, but on a trip like this one, the difference becomes quite pronounced between Japan time and ship time. I can’t even consult the cruise line app, like I do when I’m aboard a Royal Caribbean ship, because they don’t update the time in their app to reflect ship time, either. All I can do is to check the physical information screens throughout the ship, which generally show the ship time at the top of their display.

Once I do that, I have to just keep in mind how much I have to add to or subtract from the time as displayed on my phone to get the current time aboard the ship – a reading of three o’clock is actually seven in the morning at present, for instance. If nothing else, I’m already accustomed to having to make this internal calculation in order to determine what time it is at home (which, using the same example, would be one in the afternoon). Daniel and I try to call dad at least once every day, and we don’t wanna call him at night or while he’s feeding himself, so we have to be mindful of the time back home.

Now I know you would always kid me, when we were on the island, about how I would never switch over to Eastern time from Central; here I’m doing it on a much larger scale. Granted, back then it was just a matter of not wanting to physically adjust my watch, when I knew I would have to fix it back within a week. Theoretically, putting in the correct time on this electronic marvel should be considerably easier, but since it’s being changed every single day, I still don’t see the reason to put in the effort, especially since those internal calculations regarding home time would keep getting thrown off.

Then again, this particular morning was an exception to that daily rejiggering; three o’clock yesterday was also seven o’clock on board the ship. But at the same time, it could be argued that today is still yesterday, so the same rules apply.

Yes, that’s right; we’ve crossed the international date line, and as a result, it’s still Wednesday here. That letter I sent you ‘yesterday’ just after midnight? As far as Daniel and I were concerned, that was just before we were headed off for dinner around six in the evening. Since then, we’ve gotten in a decent night’s sleep, and it’s still going to be another eleven hours before Wednesday is over for us, at which point, I’ll probably be sending this to you around six in the evening again, and you’ll be receiving it just after midnight on Thursday.

Now, it’s likely that the entire span of time hasn’t been one long Wednesday. We’ve been crossing time zones both in the middle of the day and the middle of the night. I think this one was scheduled to take place around ten last night, in fact. You recall that I mentioned how I’d not heard applause from the theater below our stateroom until now? Well, it would seem that things changed last night; I wonder if it wasn’t just the production, but the fact that the moment was being treated like some sort of quasi-New Year’s event. After all, it’s not every day one gets a chance to go back in time like that, after all; it would be more than sufficient grounds for a celebration like that (kind of like those ‘crossing the equator’ festivities that we had while heading to Australia).

Anyway, this is how it’s commemorated; with a big party and a swell feed; and to think, we almost missed out on all of it, coming across it by happenstance on our way upstairs to an early lunch. You would have been absolutely amused, if somewhat good-naturedly exasperated at the fact that we were spending too much time in our cabin to appreciate what was going on.

Oh, well; I suppose I should thank you for silently nudging us up there to take part in the festivities. The only problem is that now we still have to vacate the cabin so our stewards can work on it, despite the fact that we’re far too full to even consider having dinner. Either way, though, I’d appreciate it if you were to continue to keep an eye on us, and wish us well; we’re still going to need it.