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Mary Jo - Musings on Flying Fish



Last night a flying fish leapt from the sea into the cockpit next to me. I picked her up carefully and put her back in the water.
 
This morning we were greeted by a whole flight of them, wings working like hummingbirds as they skimmed across the contours of the ocean’s surface. They flew for well over a hundred yards before conducting a controlled crash landing into the waves again.
 
Now we see them every five minutes or so, flight upon flight of them as they get surprised by the boat’s passage; they take off en masse and power gracefully above the waves, using the wind, working the gusts, curving, arcing in the simple joy of another dimension - in total control of their direction and re-entry.
 
I am still haunted by the power, the speed and the sheer presence of the fin whale that joined us the other day. I love the way that she was keeping station next to our water-towed generator impeller, as if studying it. I feel certain that she was trying to work out what that thing is that makes all this vibration and sound in the water. After a few minutes she surged forward to come alongside before rolling on her side to show her white belly and then peeling off to starboard and beyond. I heard her breathe...
 
The Ocean is huge, limitless; all moving, deep blue – shot through with sun-lightened sapphire and then going steel grey with the sun in the clouds - with white icing on the ever changing wave tops, dancing, marching, clashing together – alive, dynamic and very, very beautiful.
 
We last clapped eyes on a yacht’s light last night, possibly Roysterer, and, as we headed a touch further south, so she retreated into the horizon and beyond our sight. Good strong winds of 25 to 30 knots, stabilising from the east now; the boat is bombing along with three (all) the reefs in the mainsail due to the much weakened boom after that very nasty gybe on the first night; we are heading slightly south of west at seven knots boat speed.
 
Tonight, on ze menu we have japanese style mince, onions and daikon, with carrots, a hint of garlic - in a light shoyu sauce; served on japanese rice and accompanied by miso soup on the side for those palettes that can appreciate. Not if not. This is to counteract the tinned steak pies and potatoes (with carrots and leeks) that we received yesterday evening for Sunday Dinner, compliments of Kerry, the boom banging bandit from North Wales.
 
Gotta go. Duty calls.
 
Love to all.
 
Nick

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