Food improved, it’easier to shave; and I don’t seem to tire as easily. We should be in Sydney, they say, at 0600 tomorrow. We really are in a storm and the ship is taking a terrific pounding. Seems like every plunge will break the old girl in two, and it’s hard to stay in the bunk. The waves are coming right over the top, they say. So near and yet so far! We’ve come all this way, so we should beat this storm. But even the pilot says it’s a mean one. It’s shaking all over; knocked some guys out of their bunks.