Thursday, November 28
With an increase in wind comes an increase in waves and I just got my ass kicked by the stuff in the fridge.
We’ve been keeping hard boiled eggs handy. Easy, fast, cold, satisfying food is important. We bought in bulk in Cabo Verde and moved them into the six-egg cartons we’d saved for months, having heard that packaging is not included. I used two layers of the cardboard egg crate (originally 30 eggs per later), torn down to 3×4, to keep up to 2 dozen in the fridge at a time. Since we’re down to just 4 eggs, I tossed that bulk-egg cardboard and just used the regular 6 pack carton. Unfortunately, it doesn’t fit tightly between the two plastic organizer bins.
Between the less-secure wedge, the less-common port tack, the bigger waves, and a whole lot of glass salsa bottles filled with leftovers and pre-mades, all I had to do was pull out the juice bottle and the eggs got pushed right down into the deep drinks space by the leftovers which then tried to follow the eggs down.
I caught most of the bottles before they took the dive but I couldn’t hold them back while also making up some system to keep them in place. I’d pulled the juice bottle because I was thirsty but finally admitted defeat and put it back while I made other plans.
It was a big damn deal for a few drinks of laranja e pessago.
And then there was Thanksgiving dinner!
We had tuna in lemon butter with capers, drizzled with cream sauce with aromatic herbs, plus mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, actual mushrooms sauteed in garlic butter, whole kernel corn, and cranberry loaf with straight-from-the-can texture.
That’s six things we cooked on a two-burner stove with an oven.
It was an epic ballet and the meal was delicious and comforting.
Started the night right. No sooner did James and I shift-kiss than a twack turned into a quick fluttering drumming on the deck. I unpursed my lips to say, “Oh no!”
I’d napped my 2000-2100 off-watch away so I had to take extra care getting out on the side deck. The flying fish, one of the brilliant blue ones, moved like it was tired when I picked it up. Whether it was renewed once reimmersed in its home element or too weakened by its time in our corrosive oxygen atmosphere, I know it splashed back in alive.
The AIS holds the other sign of how this watch will go. A sailboat named Bubbles Up, which sounds silly until James brings up the possibility that they’re divers, is coming up behind us. James spoke to them briefly and they’re going to the BVIs. That means that, even though they’re going to pass us on our port side, south of us, they’re going to have to gybe at some point and head more northerly. It’ll be hours before we can be confident that they’re well away.
Gotta go, there’s a slo-mo apocalypse to be averted.
A second sailboat with AIS is lurking about, throwing up a moment of signal and then going dark. They have either a weak transmitter or a bad coax cable/connector.
Apropos of nothing…do folks really not see a penis dangling under Orion’s belt? Maybe I just don’t know enough about Classical era clothing.
Friday, November 29
I called it. Bubbles Up gybed while I was off watch and now, about four hours after I last wrote about them, have crossed astern of us on an oblique angle. They’ll keep getting closer on that angle, kinda coming up beside us, so here’s another few hours maintaining awareness of where they are and whether they’ve gybed again. I think they might be set up for the BVIs now, so I hope it’s all good.
Fucking hell, so many flying fish! What the hell, fishies? Suicidal? Probably just ignorant of the danger we bring. I’ve saved a few but, no kidding, a couple dozen have died on the deck tonight and the sun won’t be up for three hours. It’s sad and confounding…I don’t know how to make it different. In a weird way, I’m glad that they’re snatched up by the bigger predator fish as soon as they hit the water. No safety but also no waste.
Almost the end of sailing day and it’s alternately sun soaked hot and damp breeze fresh. We’re looking at rain falling in a half-dozen places around the boat, the cloud-pseudopod’s fresh water foot reaching for the blood salty ocean. The wind carries high altitude coolness and sends the boat cruising along ahead of the waves. The more speed we have on, the slower the waves overtake us, and that combination is both exciting and comfortable.
Noon position: N 14° 49.343’ W 053° 34.991’
Distance noon to noon: 107.9 NM
Average speed: 4.50 kn
Trip distance covered: 1737.8 NM
Distance to destination: 431.4 NM
