At 7:30 I’m thrown out of bed and told to report to bridge at 8:00. I think they have a conspiracy here to not let me get more than 6h of sleep.
On the bridge I’m greeted by the captain and first officer who enquire about my health condition. I’m grumpy as fuck, don’t give them any details and they lecture me about my duties as member of the crew and how they also have an obligation to take care of the whole crew’s health. A discussion ensues but common sense seems to have gone over board. After a few minutes of not the kindest back-and-forth they send me to see the doctor.
The doc diagnoses a viral infect, which is a bit of a surprise as I didn’t think I was actually sick – too tired to realise I’m down with the flu. She offers some Aspirin but I refuse and apologise for my grumpiness. Hearing that I had been thrown out of bed she puzzledly asks “For this???”, shakes her head and sends me back to rest. While she trots off to report to the bridge-clowns, I make my way back to cabin and start a futile attempt of falling back to sleep.
In the late afternoon we drop the anchor 100km off Cadiz and prepare for the big one: Captain’s Dinner. Food is outstanding (as per usual). Actually these guys outperform some of the weddings I’ve been at. Party starts after dinner – I’m in bed at 22:00.