Look out below--someone's heaving over one of the railings.

Rachel's not sure if she's actually green. She feels green; it seems that if there were ever a state of being that was actually green, it would be the godawful way she feels right now. Seasickness is a bitch, doubly so when you weren't expecting it.

But then, you'd have to expect to be on a ship to foresee getting seasick, and an ocean voyage wasn't on her agenda for the day. She can't go back, the door won't let her back through. So instead it's a white-knuckled grip on the rail and a deep breath in, eyes squeezed shut, and a prayer she won't see more of her breakfast come up again just yet.