cabin fever

The conditions on Roller leave something to be desired. That something would be living space. Caban offered to move the supplies out of the bunkroom, but where then would they go? So he strung up a hammock in the corner and found some spare blankets. This leaves me to wonder about the previous owner, or more likely string of owners. It’s a ship designed for one or two men who care more about cargo than their own standard of living. The food supplies, too, leave any manner of things to be desired, including taste, texture, temperature, freshness, and variation. I’ll buy something better once we dock again, rich in coconut money. The coconuts sold quickly on Barreston, a quick jump from Rookston, and only slightly less of a heap. Apparently Caban has reliable contacts on Barreston who sold us new cargo, we’ve got a hold full of fine grain alcohol to keep us company. The contacts also told him where he might start looking for Ice. Next stop: Miklund-3. After all their time together, they did not have a contingency plan. I wonder how they met up and began working together? Was it something like what happened with me? And why isn’t she the Captain and he the first mate?

Ah, how attached to this Log program I’m getting. But there is little else to do aboard Roller, it’s been cleaned as best we can and there is nowhere to go but into each other’s company. Its hard to know how long I’ve been aboard, or how long I’ve been Running. Its been years, but it is difficult to keep track. Cut me in half and count the rings. I hear they used to be able to do that with trees.