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Bardeau - Low on Chocolate



16.31N 043.59W

What a night. Too wet to sleep on watch. Squall of squall meant snoozing was
simply not an option. The entire watch conversation with motley Dave
revolved about the nature of trench foot and rot of the posterior. We both
decided that what with chafe, and trench foot, and rot...we were not in good
shape. However a bijou mishap made sure that the motleys did not sleep well
either. The autopilot steers by the wind. When the wind shifts it beeps and
flashes to warn you.The cure is to press any button. I confess that such was
my level of indifference that I did not look at the gauge as I reached to
press a button. Within a few minutes I observed to David what a flakey place
the Atlantic was...one minute were doing 7 knots, and the next, 1 knot or
less. I looked up at the sails and observed we were heading for the Azores
whilst quietly repointing said vessel at St.L Seems I had turned off the
autopilot :-(
Dinner tonight was roast chicken with stuffing...it was announced over
dinner there were no more vegetables. 'Does my face look bovvered?' I
commented, before enquiring on the state of Hot Dog stocks. It seems there
are enough dogs to keep me skippering through to the end of the week.
Chocolate is low, we are down to the last bottle of port, and the Bennet
Cheddar cheese will only see one more meal. Due to an unfortunate present
from Mr & Mrs Nash, I am still brushing my teeth two hours after the dinner.
The large whale and tortoise jelly babies turned out to be soap.
992 miles to go! Chinese here I come yeeeehaaaaa !!!!!!!
Illustrious skipper



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