Three days of overcast and rain mixed with sprinkles means everything is wet – clothes, underwear, you – boat, deck and cockpit are covered with dew and we are thousand miles from Bermuda, a thousand miles from Horta. crew settles in the settee for their three hours of “sleep” only to find Gigdeon 50 – no I mean a fish carcass in the cabin. Fish carcass means a new wet blanket for sleeping (dead fish is below our lowest acceptance level) and more wet sleep.
Up today for my early shift – sky looks clear winds are hummin at 20 plus and Jack ( now referred as thre “master” chef) makes pancakes, butter and syrup – oh did I mention butter from our icy fridge. spirits revive – autopilot is off and the crew is the driving on a big beam reach at 20 knot plus wind . all grateful red sailors know this means only one thing – skeletons in the closet CD, icy cold Heineken’s and we are sunnin in the cockpit.
soon only the old guys are in the cockpit, we are on our third repeat of skeletons and the master chef requests a music change. Out comes the shiny red ipod with “new” music. Let It Bleed, Beggars Banquet and Sticky Fingers and cold PBR’s – Rolling down the ocean a thousand miles from everywhere. Perfect