Days Forty-Five and Forty-Six

I continued my trip across The Vastest Ocean Of All Time Ever throughout the night. As the sun rose on Day Forty-Five, no land was to be seen.

Nothing to the east.

Nothing to the south.

Nothing to the north.

Onwards, then.

 I spied a small island early in the morning and pulled over to place my sign.

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The morning continued as the last three days had continued: with ocean and the occasional island giving me hope of a new continent then taking it away. At least things couldn't get any worse, right?

-_-

The storm came out of nowhere, drenching me and blotting out the sun. As I sailed on, I had to be careful to maintain my eastward path without any landmarks or celestial spheres to guide me.

After a while I came across an island with a couple of trees. My wood supply was still low, so I went aground to stock up.

.

Oh. Hello there.

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Fortunately, the hissing of the rain hitting the lava alerted me of its presence early. I was not expecting it and could have quite easily stumbled into it otherwise. With my fresh supply of wood (and new saplings planted in place of the old trees, of course) I continued on through the storm, keeping my focus on the clouds and the horizon as to not stray from my course.

.

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Closest I got to capturing the awesome lighting on the horizon.

After a while, I turned and looked back to the west in time to see the orange mist that suggested that somewhere behind the clouds, the sun was setting.

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Meanwhile, the largest landmass I'd seen all day was coming up in the west. As usual, I was finding land at exactly the time of day I didn't need to find land.

Land ahead.

Maneuvering through the islands in the dark.

Looking back as the sun sets.

.

Darkest night ever. Which way was east again?

I sailed on through the night. I tried my hardest to stay on course, but with no moon, stars, clouds, or land to sail by, who could know for sure how far I drifted north or south? I stuck by the repeated texture of the ocean as best I could. I spied little land throughout the night, though I did get close  to one island and was unaware of it until I heard the twangs of skeleton archers.

Whoops. A bit too close.

Finally, an orange haze split the horizon. Day Forty-Six began, yet the rain showed no sign of relenting.

.

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All you need to know about that morning. But then...

It's clearing up!

Never been so happy to see the open ocean beneath a blue sky.

Seem to be still on course.

And, truly, there is nothing else to say of Day Forty-Six. No islands of interest. No underwater formations of interest. No weather of interest. Just the ocean under the sun. Though, after twenty-four hours of rain, that was okay.

Five days I had spent on this ocean now. Whatever land is out there, at least it is five days closer.

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