Day Three Hundred Thirty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I was in error.

The other ship was not moving at all. It was the motion of our ship, its momentum, that created the impression in my mind that the other vessel was approaching. The Captain saw it right off.

And he also slowed our approach to better evaluate what we were getting ourselves into.

The bloody morass still lay off in the distance on our right. And it now appeared that we had a similar phenomenon far to our left. Was the way ahead the only channel through to our destination?

The Captain decided to press on. Perhaps our answer lies with the becalmed ship.

The Captain has ordered all hands on the alert, both day and night crews.

Day One Hundred Thirty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I was curious about Lyle’s reading of his distant encounter with the waving west ender yesterday. He had the distinct impression that he was mistaken for someone else, for the individual waved a couple of times, then stopped and withdrew.

I decided to make another attempt at contact. Our crews were returning when I passed through the fields on the way out to the vineyards.

The west end fields were deserted more than usual. Hope dwindled as I approached the vineyards.

I was hesitant to leave, so I remained to meditate on past visions of the desert.

Turning to go, I nearly ran into a woman. She put a note in my hand, smiled and left.

She wants to meet.