Brian and I traded watch at 4am with howling winds, record speeds (as per my time on Kayak) and massive waves to not rock us to sleep but rock us so hard we had no choice but to stay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to gurgling waves build up force and smash into the boat. Prior to this I slept in the V berth at the bow of the boat, but woke with a funny tummy, bloated from boat movement, unusual nourishment, dehydration, my rag, concern, who knows… I attempted to sleep outside under a full moon and stars, with fresh air to heal mind and body, less booming and echoes to wake and fret to. A large roller splashed me awake so I came inside to continue my snooze in the bunk centered in Kayak.
Watch became a lookout for Wendy Vanity aiming us upwind, which keels the boat and throws objects around that have not been tightly secured (pots and pans, spices, books, stationary, eggs…). At about 6am, when she still veered us further west than southwest, we reefed the main (in the dark, my first time…thrown into the fire…the best way to learn!) and went wing on wing for relief from the constant battle from port. I sleepily snoozed on the galley cushions, my fourth bed of the night, until 9-930 when Brian woke me with coffee.
Rumour is the world is getting smaller. I know, I experience it constantly and perpetuate the gossip. Seeing people in seemingly random places, two degrees of separation, hearing world news as it happens, being hurled through the air at 600km an hour to land in a completely different culture and environment only a few hours later…but traveling by wind changes this dynamic. Reverting to age-old technologies (sail shapes, use of keels, understanding tradewinds), adding some modern twists (but not too many…no refrigeration, contact with the outside world besides a VHF radio…) to crawl an expanse of sea, sometimes slower than walking, for a month, creates a feeling of desolation and isolation. The world experienced upon its surface (nevermind airtime and jet fuel, satellites or internet) is just as massive as explorers thought when they were bound to fall off its edge. Moving along at nature’s pace, with one other face, a waterscape as far as we can see, 17 days in a row, with 1300 nautical miles still to go makes me feel like a plankton in the soup. We are just a few bright glowing souls in a dark night and when we’re moved and disturbed we allow our presence known. When pushed by force or instigated, enough initiative ignites our essence to shine brightly at this chance encounter and share some light that inherently lies within.
Clouds shroud the glittering universe, darkness perpetuated upon the ocean’s ebony surface. Instead of in the vast sky, the constellations continue to shoot past the hull of Kayak as biolumes. Their radiance made up wholly for the blackest of nights, until a reflective moon rose to enlighten our sphere.
@ 10pm
9° 09’ N
128° 19’ W
Traveled 155nm
~5-7 ½ knots / hour
Breakfast: fried potatoes with tomatoes, apples
Lunch: dried fruit, Clif Bar
Dinner: Pasta and peas, fresh Foaccacia
Green in the Blue 