Journal of the twentyninth day on board

31st May, 1999

Time: 13,50. As usual, just as we get out the coffee, we spot something.

If it had been the wine (for obvious safety reasons it's not allowed on board.
It's not a good idea to mix tipsy people and sharks in the water),
we would have blamed this sight on "the bottle", in fact we have to think of a change in our watch routine, which towards 1.00pm unexpectedly becomes keener.

It's because we all end up at the stern of the ship eating and therefore everyone of us watches the sea at once (beyond the big face of each person's table companion): twenty eyes instead of the usual four. Perhaps we are unerringly looking for a good reason to conquer the torpor inside and overcome the temptation to "nap".

Nevertheless its a fact that everything always happens when you least expect it and above all when you are uncomfortable and you do not feel ready. Research at sea is like that. Anyway there are welcome unexpected events.

We decide to take a look, it seems to be an inaminate object. A sleeping sea mammal? A bag of rubbish thrown into the sea from a ship? A shipwreck victim?

We get in the dinghy and go closer, cautiously the outline takes shape
and gets bigger but it still doesn't make any sense.

At last there we are a few metres from it.

What do we find?

The carcass, perhaps of a dolphin, in an advanced stage of decomposition. How it died and why it died is difficult to say. The smell is nauseating. Its skin has been cooked by the sun and it doesn't have a head or fins. There are no sharks to eat the remains but strangely there are neither small fish to nibble the carcass. The famous feast of fish you see around dead creatures is not happening or has already happened (just for the head and fins).

Perhaps the fish in this area are easily satisfied and this is a stale banquet. It seems good taste has triumphed over the need for protein.

Perhaps this large mammal will become the food for those composting animals who inhabit the sea floor, a type of natural manure.

A sad sight which we hope to not come across again.