Yesterday we crossed the equator at 1130 in 43 deg 39.8W. No celebration – Dave asleep. Grey all day with squalls graciously passing on each side.
Squalls everywhere
A boisterous, wet and uncomfortable night, close on the wind. The upside – warm, fast sailing and a 200 mile day. 9 knots across the ground. I finally did some research on Cayenne and find it is shallow as all hell, but the naval port to the south has a dredged channel and we will go in there. 375 miles to vin rouge, touche bois.
The boat has been having a ball – straining at the leash like an excited dog chasing a scent. At nights especially I have wished Chris could have a taste of this experience, but I know the discomfort level would drive her nuts. So I’ll just have to be lyrical.
Back in the aft cabin I feel like I should be swaddled in a white towel, puffing a cigar and reading the Financial Times. Quite warm, and yes, a little bit humid, but easy to sleep there nonetheless, were it not for the roar of the wind generator, which needs its bearings replaced. So I try and ziz in the saloon berth but because we are heeled you need the lee cloth which, in this heat is like being wrapped in gladwrap. So I sleep in the cockpit, where coma is fitful until finally profound.
It isn’t that bad really. The cockpit is delightfully cool even by day. Were we not leaning over, it would be a dream patio. Time has stopped, or at least slowed to glacial speeds. It is spent reading, sleeping, watching the seas rush past, musing, dreaming, planning, missing.
Our little world is empty of all except flying fish. No ships for 5 days, no lights on the horizon, no Amazon logs, nothing. Only one tern – clearly an incompetent navigator. Apart from last night which was a bit fresh, the wind is remarkably constant and we have not had to adjust the sails for some days now. We just surge along, yielding comfortably to the seas and reeling off the miles.