Sensing a low point in everyone's morale, I headed for the galley. I'm a firm believer that warm food is good for the soul when you're offshore. It took me more than an hour, though, to create a simple concoction of chicken, rice and beans. Boiling water vaulted out from the pot, singeing the counter and cook with every crest. When waves struck the bottom of the platform, the galley shook and lifted. I made very deliberate moves, trying to coordinate the opening of the refrigerator with the trough of a wave. It didn't work. As I sprawled out on all fours and tried to corral the contents of the fridge, I looked anything but graceful. Scott, who wanted no part of the madness, politely told me what I could do with his plate.