Everything I've been told about tomorrow sounds terrifying, and there seems to be a conspiracy to convince me I'm about to lose my hair. Steve, an oceanographer, was pulling on my head last night, smiling obnoxiously, and muttering something about it being "a real shame." One of the mates literally squealed with delight when she found out I didn't have my "certificate." After each of these encounters/assaults I've noticed Mark lurking in the background. Beaming.
Tomorrow, most likely in the afternoon, we'll cross the Arctic Circle. And those of us crossing for the first time will be sent before King Neptune's court. I'm not at all sure what this means, but I'm told Neptune's "hag wife" will be in attendance as well. We've been told to wear old clothes and to prepare to get wet. Again, I'm not sure what this means but am oddly excited/horrified by it. Head shaving seems to be the primary act of ceremony.