We sail through the night accompanied by the very occasional squall. The wind takes us further north than the rest of the convoy but Mike manages to keep the main up until just before I come on watch. The wind then increases and he takes it down. Thankfully there is so much positive current that we still make 7 knots with just the genoa.
Morning brings a watery looking sun trying to peek through a thin veil of white cloud. At least it’s better than the wall to wall grey stuff we have had so much of recently.
Mike liked the moqueca I made yesterday so much that I make another one with the last of our tuna. Talk about coconut milk overload. That’s two cartons in yesterday’s, two in today’s and we have spicy pumpkin soup for tea planned for later with is based on it too. Given how fattening it is it’s no wonder I’m getting the size of a barrage balloon.
We goose wing the genoas out and continue to make good speed during the afternoon. While Mike sleeps, I sacrifice one of his pairs of working shorts and patch the other three pairs. He now has more patches than shorts but given that he only really wears them for the working on the boat down his black holes, I can’t see the point in spending any money getting him new ones, and although I spend three hours doing it (and haven’t finished) what else is there to do?
It’s sheep sheering time again for Mike, and I have to say it’s well overdue but the sea has been too rough to do it before. The conditions are still not perfect for it but I can’t bear to see the scruffy hair etc (don’t even wonder what the ‘etc’ stands for) any longer and refuse to be seen in public with him if it isn’t all dealt with, so I clamp him down, ignore his bleating and glaring and get stuck in. How lovely he looks afterwards! I don’t know why he makes such a fuss. Not to be outdone, I then get the hair dye out and deal with my mop.
In the late afternoon as we round the north tip of Tobago we lose the positive current and our speed drops dramatically. We had been getting over two knots which was lovely but at least it isn’t against us – at this point anyway.
The pumpkin soup is the last of the batch, and is lovely as usual. However, eating soup from a bowl whilst on a boat at sea is an activity that needs nerves of steel, an appetite for danger, a love of clearing up spills and an ability to take your soup at the slightly less than desirable temperature to avoid the third degree burns that can be occurred when you inevitably spill some. Today we both escape unscathed!
Our position is: 11 deg 36 min N, 60 deg 59 min W
Distance so far: 24486 nautical miles
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