It is a blue black night and there are a zillion stars. I have been threading us through almost as many fishing boats of the Rio Grande fleet. Now Dave’s abed and I have the calm ocean to myself. How Chris would love this, the immensity, the calm and the solitude. I have been thinking about the desert, Central Mount Wedge, about her, me and us. I miss her tonight.
[later…] Now it is bright cool morning, with gadfly petrels strutting their stuff. 660 miles to Rio. Last night’s headwinds have eased and the seas are calm. There are fishing boats everywhere. We are motor-sailing and the engine has been idling for about 48 hours. Without it there has not been enough breeze to keep our speed up. Just 1200 rpm makes all the difference.
Dave saw a turtle.