Here’s a quick note from Dart on another day that passed quickly and brought no new mail. The whole crew is busy painting the entire ship “while they have the chance.” He explains that it’s a huge job. First, they must scrape off all the rust – and there’s rust wherever there has been salt water. He says the salt water even finds its way into “water-tight” spaces and can’t get out, so it does major destruction. After the rust has been removed, the undercoat goes on. When that’s dry, the final coat is applied. This process is repeated on every metal surface of the ship!

He remembers that Dot wrote in one of her recent letters that she had bought him a Parker pen for his birthday and decided not to send it. He thanks her for the pen and for being so thoughtful. “It was a good idea not to send it, for things like that have remarkable ‘ambulatory’ habits here. They walk out on the owner without the slightest provocation.”

After he tells her how much he misses her and how thoughtful, cheerful and sweet she is, he warns her that the day is coming soon when his letters will become quite irregular again. But even though they may not be leaving the ship, he’ll still try to write them almost every day. “I won’t promise to write, but I’ll promise to try to write.” Sounds like some big offensive is afoot in his neck of the ocean.

He’s run out of time and must end their little talk for the night. He’s done more dreaming than writing, but the dreams make her seem closer.