Memories...

A position report from crossing the Atlantic:

Date: June 25, 2004
Daily Position report #27
Time UTC: 20:44

Our position is...

16 degrees 36 minutes North, 36 degrees 28 minutes West. We are going 6.7 knots under spinnaker and are on a course of 281 degrees true. The wind is 12 knots app. from apx. 040. We have 12% cloud cover and it is 81.5 degrees down below. We tacked this morning. Today has been MUCH better. We are sailing on a line that allows us to head straight for Bequia, the spinnaker is holding, and the seas are a good size in their relation to the wind allowing the sails to stay full. YEA!!! At this point in the passage I am starting to feel a sort of detachment from land or, all though it sounds funny, the world. Time has seemed to stop. I can almost get a sense of what it would be like to live in a world without time. To look back on the days of our passage is like looking back on only one day. Just one long instant in time if that makes any sense. Everyday is the same it is only the degree of comfort that is different. Even though the storms and rain of the weather or the cold and heat of the seasons are a pain and uncomfortable, I am glad that God made this world a changing one. Part of Human Nature seems to make it so we get calloused to the beauty of say, something like, a tree real quick unless that tree transforms from vibrant green to gold and finally stark black against the white of the snow. We are moving forward but it feels like we are getting nowhere. I guess to cheat on my description I could say that we are in "The Twilight Zone." I know I am over romanticizing all this but it is the best way I can think of to describe only a part of the mental feelings of being on a passage of this magnitude. I couldn't imagine doing this passage on one of Columbus' ships not knowing how long it would take, having no knowledge of what the weather was like, not knowing what I would find at the end if we made it at all, and not having any definite destination. To make things worse the wind and current would have been, as it is for us, right on the stern so turning around would not have been too feasible. Most nights we have had a lot, probably an average of six a night, of flying fish slam into the deck. Two kamakaze flying fish even flew only a couple feet behind my dad's head, while he was on night watch, before one slammed into the deck and the other into our mizzen mast. The flying fish land on our deck only at night so I figure they can't see or sense anything very well out of the water in the dark. They also only come on board on the highside meaning that they have to fly at least 6-7 feet in the air to make it on board. Pretty amazing! I hope all is well back in "the world."

Sincerely,
Robby

IMMANUEL