A seemingly endless frontier of ocean. Dark blue and white crest. Disorientation. No fixed point. The hidden depths (we know more about space). Gliding effortlessly over a surface below which lies the detritus of failed passage fighting, fishing and fleeing terror. A labyrinth of rusting tangled metal, personal ephemera and picked bones. This endless parade of (bow to stern) dining, cleaning, surveying, washing, (up)selling, sleeping, gazing into the middle distance…all part of the (sealed) deal. Below (deep below) deck, the turning of the screws, the hum and vibration (and occasional shudder) of this chartered behemoth. On the seabed, an unstable variant of terra firma.