We are finally on our last day of passage!
But can’t see the end of our beans, squash, and cabbage.
French Guiana apparently just isn’t the one
where we can acquire more food by the ton.
Spirits get low with no snacks in sight,
no cookies or candy for munching late-night.
Julian promised that should he get beaten,
he would become the shipmate to be eaten.
One more of us down for the count with the stomach flu,
All of us wincing at the number of chunks he blew.
With 32 people living in stacks,
germs get shared just as often as snacks.
With only one hundred and fifty miles to run,
calm seas have arrived and made napping less fun.
Why fall asleep to nice gentle rocking
when getting launched from your bed is so much more shocking?
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