Sunday 2nd December
An uneventful couple of days. Boredom and tiredness have definitely set in. I think all of us are a litle sleep deprived by now, and the night watches, especially after midnight, drag a little more each night. Spirits, though, remain good.
Each day, the sun rises a little later (after 08:00 now), and sets a little latet too. We're still on GMT(zulu) for the weather faxes and Herb Hilgenberg sessions. Sometime this afternoon we will pass the halfway point of the ocean crossing, with around 1400 miles, or 10 days to go. Still sailing well on a nice broad reach, winds Easterly F5-6 and seas slight or slight to moderate.
Chelone purrs along sleepily. This is barely any weather at all for a boat of her capabilities, and she devours the miles at 6-7 knots with ease. Hoping for a bit of a blow so she can show off. Her crew, though, seem content to count down the miles to Barbados, showers, fresh food and cold beer at this more leisurely pace.
I came across this in a book of sailing quotations:
'Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
-Mark Twain
Tuesday 4th December
A couple of days of heavy showers has been followed by a return to sun and lighter winds. The showers were awful. Downpour after downpour. Each time we locked down all the portholes, the main butterfly hatch and the companionway. Then the five of us would sit there for the next couple of hours, lightening flashing, Chelone heeling in the squalls, and the temperature and humidity rising, as we sit there, breathless and sweating, desperate to open the hatches, willing the drumming rain to end.
Then it would, we'd get our cool air and it would start over with another lockdown. During one such hot and sweaty session, I decided to make some bread. It came out ok, though the kneading, with all vents shut, was a challenge in the heat.
The autopilot broke. An autohelm st 7000. When John stripped it, about 5 tablespoons of ground up brass filings poured out. He had spare cogs, but it set me thinking about the sheer number of spares it is possible to carry to cover every eventuality.
The monitor windvane works well, but only downwind. John has built a gantry covering the cockpit on Chelone, and it holds solar panels, antennae and so on. Unfortunately, it seems to restrict airflow to the windvane. John intends to extend the vane upwards above the gantry when he gets a chance, which should help with this problem. Just less than 1200 miles to go this morning.
Had a little sleep in the saloon earlier. It was luxury. I've been struggling to sleep bouncing around in the forecabin. In the saloon, it is like being gently rocked to sleep in a cradle. In the forecabin it's more like being pushed headlong down a steep bumpy street in a stolen supermarket trolley. Getting some rest is, er, challenging.
