Distance run last 24 hours 148 nautical miles. Miles left to Grenada 549.
Sunday brought us light winds, calm seas and a welcome opportunity to settle back and relax without need to tend boat or sails. As any sailor knows however, whilst each yacht has a soul, character and mind of its own, every floaty boaty has a common demand for attention greater than any fairytale princess.
Our prince Falcon is no different, and chose the hour of dusk to make his demands from the crew. First, the boys had to grapple at the mast to fix a broken mainsail batten slider; this operation was annotated throughout with Ade’s colourful language directed at the the riggers who, in Las Palmas, had ‘mended’ his sturdy emergency repair of the same bit of kit, with a ‘professional permanent fix’ lasting less than 2 weeks at sea!
No sooner had we retired to the safety of the cockpit, than Bev shouted from below that water was visible on the cabin sole floor. With no rest for the wicked, and they don’t come more wicked than Ade, our skipper was despatched below to swear again, this time at the leaking water-maker!
After an eventless night watch, this morning the sun struggled to rise through a dark mass of threatening clouds off our stern, and interrogation of the radar confirmed an advancing set of menacing squalls. Although we believed this weather would just skirt us and we would be spared Thor’s full fury of angry deity mayhem, we took a cautious approach and temporarily furled our BFOS, set the genoa, and sprinted bravely away to the north! Danger passed, we now continue toward our aim point, but with more clouds bubbling around us.
Before signing off today, I must make special mention of Bev’s incredible efforts to feed us gannet-like men folk on this voyage. Yesterday we were treated to a brunch of sausage and egg wraps and, for dinner, a sit down ‘Sunday pie-and-mash’. My only point of improvement would be for a smarter turn out for the silver service; Bev’s pinafore had clear evidence of creases and her shoes were left wanting for some extra spit and polish!
On the theme of food, this extravagance of recent dining concerns me regarding the state of our supplies. It is a good job that we are, so far, making excellent progress, as it allays some of my fears of the galley cupboards running empty. That said, I now look at the skipper not so much as a leader of our maritime gang, but as a potential emergency larder should we become ensnared in the doldrums; I have already kindly ‘drawn his short straw’ for him, and checked we are still stocked with some fava beans and a delicious chianti!
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