As usual, reading Old AF Sarge's blog stirs the memory banks.
My late father went to war from the West Coast to India via Australia in a converted passenger liner (name escapes me). Other than boredom and the fear of Japanese submarines, the one story he liked to tell involved fried chicken. Seems the officers were fed fried chicken and a bucket of necks and wings was being tossed overboard. Said bucket was intercepted by he and his buddies and the contents promptly consumed. He remained indignant all his years over the difference of treatment of officers and enlisted.
He returned from India on a Liberty ship via the Cape of Good Hope to Baltimore. At some time during the voyage the hull started coming apart at the bow. The Captain slowly steamed home astern (I think that is the correct term). The trip took over a hundred days and rations were very slim toward the end of the voyage.
He crossed the Equator three times. The Pacific, the Indian, and the Atlantic Oceans plus the International Date Line going and the Prime Meridian returning. Other than salmon fishing off the Oregon Coast, I don't think he ever ventured aboard another vessel.
I thought of him when going to Europe on the General Maurice Rose. I was bored by the third day. I could well understand that he felt like livestock.