The room is bare, save for the artwork, and plain wood. Closely looking at the woodwork, does not reveal any familiar styles, but does show signs of having been rubbed to a satiny finish, and of expert craftsmanship.
Turning to the artwork, it is abstract, somewhat geometrical in design and execution. There are portions which almost seem to resolve into something, but your eyes keep trying to find a beginning or end to the pattern. Between the odd effect, and the rocking of the ship, any prolonged study of the art seems to induce vertigo.
Other than the fold-down chair, there is no furniture. Just the netting hanging from above, and hooked off to one side. It seems to contain padding or blankets rolled up inside. Giving up on the surroundings, you begin your prayers. After only a short while, there is a double tap, and the door is opened. You hear someone say, "Oh." And then whisper, "Forgive me for disturbing your meditations."
The person sets a tray very quietly on the floor, and does something to the wall letting down a tiny waist-height table. The tray slips into grooves, and a peg is used to keep it in place.
The person bows slightly in your direction, and quietly steps out closing the door again. The smell of cooked fish reaches you.