At the hotel I think about how bipolar this has been. One minute I’m dying of boredom; the next I’m totally high. Right now, I can just picture it all unfolding. The conflict between the pirate and his uncle. The scene at the seedy disco, planning the next attack while prostitutes serve us beer. The moonless night out at sea.
Either way, I can’t help but anticipate the conclusion. I suppose that’s what some documentary involves – journalists take risks so we don’t have to (or where we’d never think to).