-50.498 Lat, 29.999 Lon

Brandon's location as of this posting. Following is an excerpt from correspondence:
Well, lemme tell you. Its getting real cold real fast. No standing ice on the ship yet, but we were blessed with light snow flurries this morning. We had a few days in the mid 40's where the weather could be likened to a crisp Autumn day, but were in full scale winter mode now. Im in my hoodie and thermal underwear mode right now. The others scoff, but Im setting fashion trends for the South Seas this Summer. I think I got the advice in Italian Vogue. We could supposidly be seeing "bergs" anytime now, but by definition a true iceberg has to be bigger than a house. "Bergie bits" are less than a house but bigger than a car and "Growlers" are anything smaller than a car. They were given the name because Captains typically choose to drive through "Growlers" and they create a ....any guesses.......Yes thats correct, a Growling sound as they scrape against the hull of the ship. The water has taken on a "Gun Metal" grey tone to match the low hanging cloud cover. Even the Albatros seem less than enthused about following the ship at this point. Maybe the scraps I dole out arent to their exacting standards of fine cuisine. I dont know why Im suprised by any of this, but I guess the cold of my romantic preconcieved notions was less cold. Im just being a big baby though. You might notice the piece of equipment on the fan tail now missing. It was the trace metals rosette. Well, its value WAS roughly 100K and its true value exists in its ability to double as fish habitat. Although, I have my doubts as to the type of species that might be able to exist at 14,000 feet down. The line broke and shes gone for good. So now a bunch of grad students are stuck without a project. They kind of suck anyway, so I guess I dont really care.

Just so you know, the internet connection is spotty at best and we are supposed to loose it for good in the near future and probably wont be back for a while. The PCT is a surreal thought right now. Its a distant cry from this reality, so Im having some level of anxiety about it. I know Ill be fine. I feel like a little kid on Christmas Day when I think about starting. Im working out nearly every single day. I love stairmaster day. Probably because afterwards I beat the snot out of the heavy bag. It has almost inspired me to take up boxing lessons. But another day perhaps. Im reading the 800 page autobiography of Nelson Mandella and hope to finish before Cape Town. I am not bragging about the thickness of the book, simply eluding to the free time I have available for such an undertaking.

So, days are melting together in an endless string of work and downtime and Im trying to lie back and go with the flow. Only 57 days and a wakeup left until I get off in Ft Lauderdale. I am thinking about trying to visit a friend who lives in KeY West before I fly back to San Diego, but it all depends on if the office will accomodate. It would be nice to decompress in the Carribean for a few days before diving into PCT land.


Thanks for the continuing encouragement. I really value it and look forward to your e-mails.