Journal Entry - Venusset

From my field notes

From my journal, dated August 11, 2024:

It's too dark on the bridge for much work now, but I've mitigated one of the bright red desk lights to serve my purpose. Venus is burning on the western horizon, which is still glowing with the last remnants of the saffron and blood orange sunset. We are in the Java Sea. The Centaur and Scorpion are burning overhead, and the Cross is glittering ahead and slightly to starboard.

The air is a little cooler and a little less humid than our last port. Than the last couple weeks. I no longer need the AC in my room. It's a blessed relief from the stifling, crushing heat of the tropical Pacific.

Fishing boat lights have begun to blink on along the horizon - a bespoke constellation, every mothership shining brightly with brilliant deck lights, her tiny attendant motor skiffs ringed ‘round her like the moons of Jupiter. Stars overhead, and stars in the sea.

Venus is setting now, a molten copper star in the humid horizon. I've never seen her this color before. Rich deep red-gold, scintillating in the diffracting air with all the colors of the rainbow. I see why the ancient West ascribed femininity to this extraordinary planet.

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I just watched Venus set beyond the horizon. She grew redder and fainter and seemingly smaller, and then gave one last golden sparkle before passing into the sea.

Words don't do it justice.

Stars in the sky, and stars in the sea.