Between Sky and Sea

Position: 47°33.5’N 168°03.2’W | Course: 345° | Speed: 6.2kn

In the early hours of the 14th, we hoisted the mainsail and jib. The breeze was light but steady, and though stronger winds weren’t expected until the 15th, we decided to make the most of it. It felt good to be under sail again, even if just for the joy of silence and motion combined.

Speeds hovered around 5 knots throughout the morning — not record-breaking, but peaceful. The swell was long and low, the deck warm and quiet. By late afternoon, however, our progress dropped to a mere 0.7 knots, and reluctantly, the engine was brought back to life.

Tonight, when I look out at the horizon, it’s almost impossible to tell where the ocean ends and the sky begins. The moon spreads a soft, diffused light across everything — a silver glow that erases the line between sea and air. The only interruption: a single star blinking through. When Venus rose early this morning, it almost looked like a ship appearing over the horizon. But of course, it was our morning star, as faithful as always.

While we were still sailing, Floris managed to launch the drone. It captured beautiful footage of the wide, rolling Pacific, with our tiny Tecla tracing her path like a lone brushstroke across a vast canvas.

For those on board we find ways to break through the daily rut a little. We have the joke of the day (Why does coffee go to the police station to report a crime??? It got mugged.”), dishes are always a place of laughter, today it was the religion of the Spaghetti monster and Matz his depiction of the members. And we did another fire drill.

If the forecast holds, we expect wind again by late morning. A good day and a half of proper sailing awaits — before the next soft patch. But as we’ve learned time and again: there’s nothing more changeable than the weather out here. And that’s part of the magic.

All is well on board, Jet