Object Writing Word of the Day - [ship]

The moment the bridge was flooded by the saline spray of the Indian Ocean, I could tell things were going sideways.
My eyes stung like pickle juice had been flung into my eyes. I'm thinking too much and just need to write down in my log what's happened and where we are going, what we are doing, what I'm seeing, hearing. I taste the ocean on my lips as the boat rocks suddenly to the starboard side. My ankle gives way in a crack as I slip on the smooth floor of the cabin that's been my home for the last 3 months. I reach down to grab my ankle and suddenly the boat calms. Nothing's moving. Am I dreaming? I see a star over my left shoulder, its light blinding my eyes, leaving a glowing halo on my retinas that I can't look past. The orbs block my view of everything in front of me. Panic sets the hairs on my arms and neck to stand. Cling. Cling. Cling. It rings in my eyes as the water drains off my face, along with the blood in my veins. Smoke ringlets dance in front of me as the orbs start to dissipate. Clang. Clang. Clang. It rings again. Closer. More resonant. I hear footsteps on the cold grating above me, but my vision is still blurry. Consciousness leaves like an exorcism in reverse. Contorted and breathing heavily. I inhale the salty dew and go into a violent coughing fit. I'm not going to make it. Cling. Cling. Cling again. Wavering back and forth as the sinking vessel lists. I don't know where I am, but I see the sunlight and I see her face. I can keep my eyes open for only a few seconds longer. Cling. Clang. A rush of wind and light pours over me and I'm out in the sunlight before my eyes can adjust.