The winds grew stronger after midnight and in the dark night our jibstick broke. All four of us were quickly awake and we secured the stick and the genoafock. We continued to sail with our reeved main in force 8. The silvery waves were quite high and at least Nilla got a bit queasy. However, at noon we could celebrate that we had reached and crossed the Tropic of cancer. We are amazed, having come so far.
It was also a sad day, as we got the message that a dear friend and sailor at home had died. Looking out over the vast Atlantic, the never ending waves and the sound of them crushing against the hull was comforting.