20 days at sea
30+ flying fish on deck
20 books read between us
9 shooting stars
3 makeshift solutions to the badly leaking watermaker
2 showers on deck
2 repairs when the boom vang broke
1 boat on the horizon
1 small pod of dolphins
1 refrigerator hinge broken and repaired
1 cabinet hardware broken
we quickly got into a routine that gave us plenty of time to read. wind and weather were great until day 12 when the wind died, then picked up again to 7+ knots. Our fastest day was 186 miles, our slowest was 93. We had forgotten how relaxing downwind sailing can be when you don’t have to dodge nighttime fishing boats. On slow days the mainsail rattles and the jib flaps from lack of wind. There is no silence. We read. We watch the water. We scan the horizon for boats (none). Day turns into night and back into day. We miss our cool overcast Peruvian days that have turned into cloudless heat. At least there’s no humidity except down below when we want to sleep. We’re lulled into lethargy from the water and sky. I give a great deal of time contemplating the clouds at sunrise and the stars/galaxies at night. It’s a lot like being in prison except no one cooks for us and we don’t get an hour of exercise. Some days we bob on top of the water like a confused cork.
Fresh fruit and veggies are gone now. I’m experimenting with recipes. So, how many ways can you cook cabbage, beans, rice and pasta? We’re like a small store with all the food we have onboard, but often it’s not what we feel like eating.
Jim’s been working on the watermaker in the garage. This was repair attempt #1.
repair attempt #3. it actually worked fairly well, collecting the salt water via the rags. unfortunately it didn’t work so well when we were on a portside heel.
Jim’s vang repair #2, or was that #3? it’s easy to lose count.
we’re on our way to search for baguettes