Aboard Pong Tong

Wednesday, August 28, 1929

Last night at eleven a half moon—flat side up—rose dripping from a black sea and climbed up through a cloudy sky like some fantastical Chinese sea monster, turning the sea a dull gold—as if it were of molten gold.

We passed three ships today at good distances. A morning in the sun turned me into a danger sign—even my tan of months standing. At noon the sun stands directly overhead and is really hot. The breeze continues and a straying cloud handed us a shower today. Ants are multiplying by the hundreds and are all through my clothes.

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