17°20.4’S 143°49.2’W // course 303° // speed 6.4 kn
“Shall I helm?” Adrian asks. “You have a logbook to write.”
I smile. I love how rhythm settles in and routine becomes important in the middle of the night. First two or three cups of coffee (possibly four) while I steer, and then logbook time. A big ‘non-rainy’ cloud has just passed overhead; the ocean looks dark grey and silvery, moonlight bouncing off the small waves. While steering, I already try to think of what to write—what did we see and do? When Adrian takes over the helm, I move to the aft cabin, sit with my laptop on my lap, and recap the day.
We are making good progress towards Tahanea. Yesterday afternoon we had some amazing sailing—champagne sailing. The kind of sailing where the sails are full, the deck is steady, blue water rushes by with a sense of urgency, and the skies are kind. Truly beautiful. The ocean was an intense blue with small white caps, and under full canvas we were doing 7 to 8, sometimes 9 knots. Steering was relatively easy, the sunshine warm, and the waves well-behaved. We agreed that if it wasn’t so spectacular, it would almost be boring.
On deck, the crew were spread out in various places and positions, all trying to find shade. Some were reading, others taking a nap. The team on board is doing well. With days like this, sailing between islands, there is time to write, reflect, chat, and stare into the distance. At one point, Wendy was standing in the shade of the mizzen mast, writing in her journal. But as the helmsman adjusted course, she had to shift position every now and then—quietly following the shade. Tooske climbed on the jib boom to get some amazing pictures from a different angle, which won her the picture of the day.
Today (Thursday), when we reach Tahanea, we will all be busy again—snorkelling, beachcombing, exploring. But these intermezzos give us time to process things a little, even while we are still in the middle of it all.
At lunchtime, Michael brought my lunch out on deck (what a luxury while steering!), and once again it was spectacular. A beautiful plate with all sorts of flavours, but the best was the combination of pomegranate seeds, passionfruit, and cream cheese. Oef—that was even better than the reheated mac and cheese from last night.
In the sky, there were only small cumulus puffs; the rest was a stark blue. We had some birds around—a booby, a large tern, and, in the distance, some shearwaters—but no dolphins or whales.
Sometimes this vast ocean, the largest body of water on Earth, feels so empty. We know there are islands around, but we never spot them. We know there is wildlife out there, yet we see so little, as the vastness of the blue stretches out into what feels like forever. And we are just a tiny speck on this massive blue.
All is well on board,
Jet
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