The sea was making me queasy.
At home, on Cyprus, I'd loved everything about it. The sapphire blue of the sparkling waves, the birds wheeling over head, the sound of the water lapping the shore like soft footsteps... even the sharp salty tang didn't bother me - there's nothing like the sea air to keep you going. Not like the stench of smoke of burnt stone - Stop. Don't... think.
"Clio, keep away from the side! You're the colour of sprouts!"
I grinned back at Guy, my favourite skipper. I knew him from the town markets back home, he was a fisherman by trade. When they came for me after - well, after It, they wanted to shove me on some government plane. Ugh - I hate flying. It's like Travelling - makes your stomach flip up the wrong way. So Guy volunteered to take me! I was so comforted - 'til I found out some governmet types were coming with us. They give me the mega-creeps. Still, Guy was here.
So I was on a boat. It was a great boat, not too poky. But the sea... it was still beautiful and glittered in the midday sun, but... it was so big. Stretching for miles. I was so used to seeing land just opposite us, it seemed unnatural to be the only boat for ages.
"What's that... There it is Clio! Your new home!"