December 2nd

I’m not sure how this happened but we have now been at sea for 7 days. We are headed west and moving along nicely at 7 knots in 16 knots of breeze. The crew seem to be settling down into a rhythm and we all seem to adjusting to our life on board.

The days and nights blur into each other and we are constantly busy.  At moments it feels like we have been on this boat forever and nothing else exists. If not on watch there is always plenty of work to be done. We have a list of daily jobs that we rotate through.  Cleaning the head, galley, saloon, cockpit, deck and then checking for chafe on the sails and sheets.  Keeping on top of this stuff on a daily basis is essential with 5 people sharing a very confined space.  We have no refrigerator on board so when we provisioned we bought some frozen vacuume packed meat and nice cheeses and had them on a block of ice but they are all off now and I am going to clean out the ice box and feed the sharks.

Sailing into the sunset

I love the evening sail, it is quite magical. As we are headed west every evening we sail into the sunset and then sail under the night sky studded with stars.   I find Polaris off of the starboard bow and track the movements of Ursa Major and Minor through the sky as we make our way through the darkness.  The moon is a sliver right now but is going to be getting bigger every night, right now the nights are pitch black.

Night time sailing hurtling down waves at 8-9 knots in the darkness is pure exhilaration.  When I come off watch at 2am,  I feel so high I can hardly sleep. 

Up at 6am for the next watch and we get to watch the sun rise behind us and be part of the early morning unfolding over the Atlantic.  I don’t feel separate from any of this.  I feel very much a part of this minute by minute unfolding. 

Dawn breaking over the Atlantic

There has been nothing in sight for days.  We are completely surrounded by horizon in every direction and we are out here alone on this big ocean.  I relish this feeling. We exist in a 360 degree horizon of perfect blue.  The ocean at this point is an indescribable blue,  I have never seen this colour before in any ocean anywhere.  It has a purity about it that makes it feel untouched and unspoilt.  I look at the chart and at this point we are sitting on top of 5000 metres of depth.  I wonder about the vast amounts of life going on below us…we are clearly not alone, it is just not visible. 

I enjoy this life stripped bare where there are simple routines and the constant connection to the elements, the sun, the moon and the stars.  I do not find the lack of convenience or creature comfort any hardship. Often there is  nothing else but the sounds of water as the bow cuts through waves and water rushes past the hull….this feels like enough.