Position 06’56.0N 145’47.7W – Course 015° – Speed 6,6kn
Closing in on the Doldrums, the wind started shifting and slowly gave out by late afternoon. Around 13:30 we shook out the reef — it felt good to be full and flying again for a while. But as the hours passed, the breeze thinned and now, as the night takes over, it has all but vanished. We’re under engine, in the thick of it: the windless band that sailors dread and dream of in equal measure.
Earlier today, Floris hit the celestial navigation sweet spot — a perfect crossing of time and height! He’s been training since October last year, and it shows. There’s something special about seeing someone lift their eyes from the sextant with that quiet, triumphant grin.
Just as exciting: we saw a ship! The first vessel we’ve spotted since Nuku Hiva. Strange how quickly the sight of another becomes unusual.
Above us today: the birds told a different story. A masked booby cut the sky with ease, while long-tailed tropicbirds circled high above. Storm petrels and shearwaters flicked low over the waves, always just a breath away from touching the sea. And of course, the terns — never too many to count, never still.
By dinnertime, the air had thickened. We talked of rain and watched the clouds gather. It started after 20:00 — a steady tropical pour that lasted three full hours. Not a squall, no wind, just endless drops falling in silence. It’s only just clearing up now. Good to rinse of the deck, but still somewhat cold as well.
The night is heavy and dark, with the kind of stillness that makes thoughts travel further than the ship. With no moon and barely a breeze, it’s the perfect setting for drifting — not just across the ocean, but through ideas, memories, and the promise of the miles ahead.
All is well on board — a little damp, a little dreamy – Jet
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