(Underway, 163 Nautical Miles)
Greg rarely has much to do with the writing of these posts. Yes, he could easily be described as my muse, influencing content without trying, but never does he say, “hey, you should write about this.” Well today he did. Today he voiced his opinion and how am I to ignore that?
As we travel steadily westward, we see the world and its continuous cycle around the sun as you could nowhere else. Travelling such a great distance at the speed of a light jog, we experience the changing time zones quite differently. Usually you’d hop on a plane; jump some number of time zones oblivious to their passing; let your phone, tablet, laptop, or whatever electronic device change automatically; and that would be it. For us, we’ve left our clocks set to Galapagos Time. As the days add up out here so do the evening sunlight hours, naturally subtracting from the morning ones. Reflecting the slow, yet determined change of the sun. My first night shift, starting at 7 pm, used to kickoff in complete darkness. Now the sun has barely thought about setting. In fact we’ve begun to shift the shifts back to match our westward progression. God forbid Greg loses those prized fishing times! Ha.
Rereading my explanation I find I did little to express our changing reality. Maybe it’s one of those you-had-to-be-there things. Or maybe I should have just stuck with Greg’s, “write about how the days are changing and our clocks are not. Like how it’s severely light our right now and I’m supposed to go to bed.”