August 23, 2016
Our cruise ship is traveling through dense fog and periodically sounding its horn. The view was beautiful at first, as the fog rose from the surface of the water, creating a spooky effect as the tops of islands emerged out of the fog.
The sky was streaked with pink and orange as the sun went down.
Dale and I walked around the Promenade Deck three times – one mile, as the fog continued to gather, below and above.
By the time we returned to our room and the verandah, the fog had almost obliterated the landscape.
As I write this close to midnight, we’ve been feeling the ship rocking and the ghostly sound of its foghorn comes to us muffled by walls and doors. I fall asleep thinking about the Titanic and icebergs.