Having very little to look at and no interruptions, the mind gets quiet. I remember on AraVilla after a few days I found it much easier to concentrate, I'm reminded of that now, here sitting in the pitch black, with both Mark and Wayne asleep.
The clock on this phone is set to the EST timezones so the timestamps of these posts are an hour off.
So far so good. My stomach is still a bit off but it's not too bad. The winds are light and the waves are gentle. The boom occasionally smacks violently which is disconcerting when it happens.
After being below for a short while I really started to feel I'll. I went back to the cockpit but it felt like I was going to throw up so I asked Mark for a puke bucket which he got for me. I stayed there for some time. I will make the bucket my friend.
The stars continue to amaze and upon Mark mentioning it I noticed bioluminescent flashes in the water.
It got quite chilly so I'm making another attempt below. My watch starts at 12 but I'm not sure I'm good for it.
I started feeling worse so Wayne suggested I sit in the air of the cockpit. It's a moonless night. The stars are beautiful. I sat out there for a while. Wayne checked up on me repeatedly. Eventually the waves started dying down and Mark came up and furled out the headsail and furled in the staysail. Although the forecast says the winds will stay light "You never know so it's best not to have too much sail up in case we get some gusts."
Wayne went to sleep a bit. I started feeling a little better and went below. Still not 100%. Disappointing because "I don't get seasick."
Mark asked me to turn down wind by 10 degrees and then eased out the sails. The weather forecast from Commanders predicts the winds will shift such that of we go 10deg downwind now we'll be in a better wind angle when they shift. In addition we picked up a few knots.
Wayne is getting me some snack food since it's too rough to make dinner.
As I watch the sun slowly set on the horizon and I feel the way this vessel moves through these confused waves, I ponder what a poorer life I would have if I shied away from journeys like these. There is always trepidation ahead of a risky trip then once out in it the fear goes away.
Sitting at the helm monitoring the auto helm. Mark has some music on the stereo. There these wonderful rolling waves that we'll climb and then crash down the far side. The sun is shining and the water has turned dark blue. We are now out of cell range.