Through the Luzon Strait

We passed north of Luzon with a low, easy swell and better visibility. The movement beneath my feet had a gentle rhythm rather than anything demanding attention. After so much time spent looking into mist, the ability to see a proper distance felt like a small luxury. I had become surprisingly willing to accept the world in restricted portions.

The grey weather has finally broken apart into high cloud and blue gaps. It no longer seems determined to occupy every available inch of sky. Light moves through the openings and gives the sea a little variation again. I stood watching this modest rearrangement with the pleasure usually reserved for something more spectacular. Standards of entertainment at sea can become wonderfully economical.

Priya says the next weeks will be ports, traffic and schedules. She sounded pleased. In her voice, this was not a warning about difficulty but the outline of an agreeable prospect. I could practically hear the satisfaction of things needing to be done properly and at the right time. My own response to a crowded schedule is generally to wonder where tea might fit.

I am learning that she prefers a difficult day to a dull one. It helps, of course, that she is equipped to be useful during difficult days. I tend to become more useful as demands diminish. Still, there is something infectious about her anticipation. With the cloud opening above us and a busier stretch ahead, I found myself looking forward to it too, while reserving my usual right to stand somewhere unobtrusive.