Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 24.

This must be what the fifth Hell is like. I was so excited by the thought of sailing but what an idiot I have been! It is terrible. The first day at sea, we were close to the land and I was preoccupied by my hair and by... well... and then the pain but now... oh... this constant rolling is unbearable.  I have taken up permanent residence on deck because I cannot stand to be in a cabin any longer. The combination of the movement of the ship on the waves and the crippling cramps I suffered caused me to vomit copiously and before I could clean it up, the smell of my own sick made me throw up again... and once I had started... eventually, I managed to stagger back up to the deck and lean over the side of the ship. The sight of the waves did little for my stomach and I have been vomiting ever since. The wives have taken turns to bring me food and tea but I cannot bring myself to eat anything; I managed a little tea earlier but I am afraid that I brought it straight back up.
 I am stuck on this godsforsaken vessel for at least two weeks and I do not know how I will survive it. My lips are already blistered as they were before I arrived at the camp and I am frightened by the fact that I feel so sick and cannot eat or drink. The wives are concerned, I know. Their kindness shames me. How can they be so considerate when I have been lying with their husband. If the sandals were on my feet, I would not be nearly so generous... oh... gods... what was I thinking...? I cannot even write properly; the spray from the sea is making my ink bleed all over the pages and I have been having to stop writing every half stick or so to be sick again. Perhaps if I leave off my scribbling for a while and try to sleep a little...