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I arrive at breakfast first and the Captain is soon after me. I feel a huge sense of relief it’s him as I am not yet comfortable with the blanket of silence with everyone else. The Captain by comparison is chatty, and at least is always warm and cheerful.

He says good morning in the ringing cheerful tones I am accustomed to, and I point out it is another beautiful day. The sun is shining and the sea is flat. I know that he likes it like this, and doesn’t understand that I still hope for a storm.

He agrees it’s a beautiful day and tells me that I am allowed anywhere on the deck again today. Maybe I will see something?

Breakfast is corned beef with a fried egg on top. I suspect the corned beef is from a can, and it is dry and salty. The captain heats bread in what I thought was the microwave, but soon there is smoke, and the bread is charred. I wasn’t aware a microwave could do that…

Peter the Steward hovers in the background looking helpless, and the Captain takes charge, trying to open one of the windows. He unscrews all of the holds, only to find it doesn’t open, so digs out a bungee cord and ties the door onto the deck open.

The room smells strongly of smoke, but the Steward continues to hover ineffectually while the Captain deals with it.

When he sits back down he tells me we will have a guest in Napier, and that the guest must sit next to him. Unfortunately this means I must move one seat down the table. He is most apologetic, and says he would much rather sit next to me, but cannot afford to offend the guest.

I very much like sitting next to him, as he is pleasant company, but I am not concerned about being downgraded, and I tell him this is fine.

After breakfast I head back to the Bridge to try and work out how far we are from Foveaux Straight. The Second Mate shows me how to zoom in and out on the screen, and says it is OK for me to do it, as long as I leave it as I found it. This pleases me greatly, and then he helps me calculate how far we are away.

At 16 knots, it is still 11 hours to go, and we will not approach until 2100. This disappoints me, and I will not see any of it in the dark, and there will not be a “first moment” for when my country appears in the distance.

He asks if I am waiting for phone coverage because I am bored. I laugh and tell him I love being here. The boat is interesting and the views are beautiful. He says all we can see are containers and they are not beautiful.

I have definitely noticed that I am the only person on board who is enjoying themselves noticeably. Even the cheerful Captain replies that it is not a bad job, and it is too late to change now, when I ask him if he loves his job. I suspect it has a lot to do with the isolation and the duration. It does not appear that the Officers make friends with each other, and we all head to our own cabins after dinner.

The Second Mate tells me that he has been on duty now for 2 months, and has 4 months to go. Hopefully he will get a 3 month break back home, but it depends how busy it is. There is not enough staff, and he is often only given 1 month back at shore, before another 6 months on board.

I can see how this would take the shine off running away to sea.

He offers to take some photos of me on the ship, and lets me sit in the front chair. I don’t know if this is OK, but there are only the 2 of us on the Bridge and it has put a smile on his face.

The rest of the day is very quiet; I spend some more time on deck, have a nap and watch a movie.

Just before dinner there is an announcement on the PA that the clocks will be moving forward 1 hour again tonight.

Dinner is spaghetti bolognaise and salad, which is by far the best meal so far. However both the Chief Engineer and the Chief Mate do not seem happy. There is a spiel in another language while the Chief Engineer indicates heaping on his plate.

He starts to call out “Man! Man! Man!” but the Steward does not notice. The Chief Mate suggests “Steward” may work better, and starts yelling this out.

I’m aware that the Steward got on in Melbourne, as I did, so I helpfully mention that his name is Peter. Both shoot me looks like I have grown an extra head, and the Chief Engineer replies condescendingly “we know”.

This confirms that titles are how everyone is referred to, and I ponder that it can surely only increase the sense of isolation?

I head up to the bridge where can see the outline of Fiordland appearing. We have made faster time that I thought. I try to take a photo but cloud has rolled in and its slightly differing shades of grey don’t really show on the camera.

The Second Mate offers to take another photo of me in the chair, but I decline and just watch the containers rock back and forth for a while, before telling him I will be back later.

Later I pad back up to the Bridge where I take a photo of our coordinates. When I get back to the cabin I go to write them down, and notice my phone has 2 bars. Maybe I’ll check in with the world. As I go to set up they disappear, and I conclude I’m going to bed instead.