ARC Leg1 301107 1200
Positions
174 21.40N 27.55W 00:00

The day leading up to that hellish night had been wonderful. Barry made crepes for lunch, and demonstrated his flipping skills and sea legs. We were surrounded by scores of dolphins, who came charging at us in hopes of finding a new playmate or a pancake. I can think of no other wild animal whom I would welcome so readily as they charged at us. Monarch butterflies, maybe ... but they don't really charge, do they?

Oh yes; and I caught my first Dorado. The reel started spinning, and Tom said, "Fish! FISH!" This, of course is a Dutch phrase which means, "I happen to know that the one who reels in the fish must also clean the fish". With technical assistance from Barry, I did just that, and there was fish on the table for dinner.

Sadly, the next day was lost for your scribe, dear reader. Anyone who drinks three cups of coffee a day knows the cold turkey misery that occurs when you skip two days. The java monkey will abide one missed day, but may the good lord help you on day two. On day two, the Java Monkey playfully jumps on your chest and kicks you in the head. Here in the vast expanses of the Atlantic, he made fast friends with a thousand Sea Monkeys. It was this unholy alliance that descended upon me at 04:00, during my watch. They had all lurked quietly like unruly pre-schoolers on a time-out, until a squall kicked up behind us and rocked and pushed our boat faster and faster into the inky darkness.

Cap'n Mark awoke and came up to the wheel when he heard the tell-tale sounds of his boat rapidly gaining speed. We both eyed the squall as it spun around behind us, and watched the compass and wind direction readings. Meanwhile, 1,001 monkeys kicked and pulled and laughed at their luck. For two hours this went on; the wind shifts, the instruments, the monkeys, and the lurching. All spinning around me, like Dorothy in the twister scene of the Wizard of Oz - if Dorothy had eaten clams and liver with tequila the night before. By 05:30, it was apparent who would win this tug-of-war for my well being. I explained to Mark that I may need for him to completely take over my watch, as I had a bit of a problem.

"Stomach," I managed as I jumped down the steps and lay prostrate on the deck, looking down at the aft steps. Demons come OUT! There was an exorcism, and I was born again, if only for a moment. I walked back up top and explained that I felt so much better and thank goodness that's over and all is well now and perhaps I'll have a lie-down for a moment.

I awoke nine hours later and forced myself to go in the head and shave. I immediately lay back down on the aft-most seats. Louis calls it The Puking Couch.

This fine morning has been much kinder. Blue skies with puffy clouds. Barry says Polly calls them Sit-upon Clouds. We are frequently visited by flying fish. They look like with moths fluttering just above the water. They emerge, fly for about 25 meters, then plunge back in the ocean. Sometimes, instead of plunging back in, one will run across the waves on its tail fin. Seriously. I don't blame you if you don't believe it. It's the weirdest thing I've seen since high school. But that is what they do.


This morning Mark and Louis have each caught a Dorado. Dinner plans are made, and nothing is coming out of the freezer. We had a good sized Tuna on the line, so Louis picked up the reel while Mark and I ran to the bow to take down the sail. With a 25 knot wind speed, we were unable to bring in the spinnaker. The tuna got away, but in our sail struggle we discovered a superior positioning. It now flies higher, and we are moving 1.5 knots faster. Hang on Polly! Hang on Ellen! Your men are coming for ya. We do miss our sweethearts. Especially in my seasick misery, there was a gaping maw of malaise over the emptiness where my wife and kids and life are supposed to be. The fever has broken now. The gut pains are gone. The sun is shining. When we get home, there will be joyful reunions, Christmas, and stories. Lots and lots of stories.

ODE TO THE HEAD

Crapper, oh crapper
I hate you so much
Your chemical stench
makes my gut muscles clutch

You lurk below decks
you never come look for me
you know you can't lose
I will come back eventually

Crapper, oh crapper
I now understand
it is you who has made me
a once a day man

What sadistic mind
thought to build you below?
all around, open space
where we'd happily go

Crapper, damn crapper
you are the most cursed
no gas station $#!7hole
could knock you from first
~fin~

DutchARC301107

De voorlaatste nacht was heel helder op af en toe een donkere wolk met wat regen na.

Zeker in het begin van de avond zag je onnoemelijk veel sterren, zo veel dat je met een boek over de sterren in de hand kon je nog geen beslissing maken welk sterrenbeeld het zou kunnen was. Gisteravond precies hetzelfde ook mede omdat de maan niet in ons beeld was. Vanmorgen echter zag je alleen nog de belangrijke sterren waardoor we nu 2 vaste punten hebben kunnen bepalen. We hebben de Bettelgeuze en de Dolfijn. Hiermee gaan we vanavond verder.

Ook vandaag weer 2 vissen gevangen die we vanavond eten. Louis heeft helaas een tonijn niet kunnen binnenhalen omdat we de boot niet langzamer konden laten varen. Regelmatig komen de vliegende vissen langs naast elke dag al een poosje de dolfijnen.

Volgens Mark hebben we nu de Tradewinds,een constante Nood-Ooster wind van 15 tot 20 knopen. We vliegen over het water.

Vandaag weer vers brood tussen de middag. Ons leven is goed.

Groet.


De crew van de Maverick Dream