Longtitude: 7° 17 S
Latitude: 132° 31 W
Course over ground: 252°
Speed over ground: 4.5 - 5 knots
True wind speed: 10 - 11 knots
Time: 7.30 am (Anchorage)
415 nautical miles to go...
Saturday: Well, it turned out to be a slow night after all with wind dropping away, but we will have less than 400 miles to go by the end of the day, hurrah! Dawn greeted us with another beautiful sunrise. At first there was a vertical jet of cloud with a rosy hue issuing from the horizon, like the spout of a whale, and then a solitary gull flew by, a graceful silhouette, the most photogenic of moments, snapped and stored on film in my mind.
The sea has returned to a gentle state and we are crawling along now, but we have a full tank still, plus reserves, and can always put the motor on to crack on if need be. It occurred to us that we are doing so well on our reserves of fresh food as well that we haven’t really needed to dip into our canned supplies and so decided to crack open a tin of Caribbean pulled pork for novelty value. Teamed with some banana ketchup, red onion, sweetcorn and cheese it makes for wicked tacos!
All three kids played playmobile together the entire afternoon, while I finished off Moby Dick, a beast of a book, even if the whale itself only appears in the last 2%! In a thoughtful state afterwards, I quietly watched the whole of the sunset sitting cross-legged on the roof deck, which was quite something else through polarised glasses. Through the galley hatch wafted a heady scent of coconut at first, then mingled with sweet banana as Xavier supervised the kids frying up plantain chips in coconut oil, which went down deliciously (and quickly!) with the last of the honey roasted peanuts. Peanuts, Xav and I mused over a dark and stormy later, that were all very well but not a patch on a packed of KP back in the UK.
Later that evening we discovered three instalments had come through from Nina, the teenager on American boat Shawnigan, writing a story for the kids. Bedtime story took an hour and a half reading them, she has a great imagination! Francis thinks her vampire tales are wicked, in more ways than one, and Isabelle is inspired in turn to write, and finish, her own stories. Catherine meanwhile just let it all wash over her and gently floated off to sleep.
I was ready to crash afterwards as well, but managed to read a little of new book, Robert Louis Stevenson’s memoirs of the South Seas, which begin in the Marquesas:
"The first experience can never be repeated. The first love, the first sunrise, the first South Sea island, are memories apart and touched a virginity of sense.”
We just cannot wait!