It started off pretty much like any other day. I woke up way too late to watch the first rays of the sun stretch over the ocean. By the time I was up blindingly bright rays of light were struggling to get past the thick jacket I'd draped over the porthole in my cabin. With barely a half hour left for beginning of shift I had to rush off for a hasty lunch after a hasty bath. Made it to my workstation without raising too many eyebrows about the slightly late entry.
The rest of the day went pretty much the same as the rest of the week, till I decided around 8 that I'd had enough of watching over computer screens for a while and went up to the helideck for a stroll. Now I'd missed the sunset yesterday, so I made sure I was there well in time today. When I did get to the deck, the Sun was very much above the horizon. The entire sky was a startlingly clear blue, and the water, broken up a bit by the strengthening wind, was still a deep blue and not a frothy grey. But there was this small cloud, dark and ominous, smack on top of the sun!
I guess you can't exactly say that a cloud might get on top of the sun, but it effectively blotted out any chance I had of actually watching the sun set over the water. However, soon enough, I wasn't complaining any more. The sun seemed to have set the cloud on fire! The edges took on a fiery crimson hue and from all around the cloud, clear bright rays of sunlight struck out into the sky like a halo of gigantic proportions! Slowly, though, a deeper darkness began spreading out to cover up the light, till there was nothing but a deep purple after-glow left hanging on the eastern edge of the sea.
Ironically enough, the cloud seemed to have disappeared with the sun and the night-sky, full of a million twinkling stars, was completely unblemished.
Well, tomorrow I'll try again!
Ya, I'm doing okay. I'm working up here, on a seismic acquisition vessel (that's just a fancy name for a ship looking for oil under the sea-bed :P).
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