Barf. Chunder. Spew. Boot. Yack.
All the above.
I was feeling a bit queasy for several hours and had propped myself up on the front of the cabin in the shade of the sail and drifted in and out of sleep until the first mate yelled that lunch was ready. I staggered between the bikes towards the little dining table at the rear of the boat and instantly got sick. I turned around, made my way back through the bikes to the bow of the boat, dove on one of the trampoline-like nets and cut loose breakfast. And there I stayed for the rest of the voyage that day, drooling into the sea. At times water would blast up through the mesh and shock my senses which distracted me from the nausea. I luckily fell asleep but rolled over and would have been sunburned beyond recognition but Tom threw a towel over my face which made waking up confusing. At least I didn't sunburn my tongue.
We docked for the night at another island and all went snorkeling though there was nothing much to see. Tons of crabs and shells on the island, though.
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