Ten days at sea. . .

We are sailing 300 nautical miles East from the delta of the Amazon river. We have been at sea for ten days without seeing land. Our universe is the boat, our 19 meter headquarters. That is where we live now. We hoist and lower sails, adjust them and keep an eye on the horizon for other boats. We cook and eat together, we sleep and we dream. On our night watches we sail under the stars and keep our heading in relation to the moon. We remember the sunset and wait for the sunrise. The wind cools our sunburned skin.

One morning, just as the sun was rising, a butterfly flew around the stern of the boat. (Was it born on board or was it blown here from some far-away place like Africa?) One night a tropical seabird tried to make a landing on deck to get some rest. An afternoon shearwaters followed us fishing in the shade behind the boat. They flew up in the air, looked for fish and landed like ducks slowing themselves down with their feet. Once in the water, they poke their heads down into the waves. How deep can they see? I wonder… and what do they see? I wish I could be in the water with them for a while and open my wings like a bird and start flying if sharks approach.

Dolphins and flying fish are as present in our lives as the sunset and the sunrise. We have learned about colors we didn’t know existed: blues of the ocean and the sky, silvery and yellowish shades of sunlight reflected on the water and rainbow-like ever-changing colors that separate days from nights. Salt sticks to our skin and hair. We develop callouses on our palms.

A day goes by and the night comes again. We raise our voices to sing in the wind. We dream while we sing. It is easy to imagine almost anything in the middle of the ocean surrounded by stars. We keep on sailing. Time exists less and less.

Location: 5° 09.5 N, 41° 46.5 W
Saturday 12:00, 06.17.2006

At noon on June 17th, the Schooner Maggie B was at 5° 09.5 N 41° 46.5 W. Our speed is 5.7 kt on a course of 115.

We appear to be on the south side of the ITCZ, with the wind at 180 at 10-12 kt true. We haven’t had much in the way of rain showers (yet?) or calms. Since setting out 10 days ago we have run the engine only 25 hours, with the general rule being to motor when the boat speed is under four knots.

Last night it looked as if we were going to get a real “frog choking, gully washer” of a rain so we rigged our rain-catcher, which is a 8×10 foot tarp with a drain set in the middle leading to a short pipe to plug into the water tank filler. Some of us got into bathing suits for a “free” shower, but alas, it passed us by at the last minute with only a little spritz.

We are on course for and 100 miles from our first “turn target” from Commanders Weather, where we’ll start arcing south to plug into the SE’erlies. In that we have a southerly already, we may not be able to do much arcing, but so far so good.

We are 780 NM from both Natal and Noronha, with our FdeN being about 150 degrees, which would be difficult if all we get is a strong SE’erly. But so far we have been able to do pretty well with each shift and hopefully we will be able to continue to play whatever variability we get.

Today was wash day and the boat looks rather like 1960’s hippie patched blue jeans with every color and kind of cloth everywhere. Hopefully we won’t be seen by any other boats.

Bori is starting our Portuguese lessons today, so that we can learn essential phrases like “hello,” thank you,” and “where is the Internet Cafe?” Noontime music is all Brazilian. Samba lessons next?

Max is showing more of his dingy racing background and climbed up the mainsail leech to hang ribbons so that we can be sure all those Bernoullis are working for us.

All is well.