Noon Position: 44 21S 104 08E
Sky: Overcast, rain
Cabin Temp: 61 Sea Temp: 52
Miles Last 24 hours: 168
Longitude Made Good: 157
Total Miles: 15,209
Wind moved into the northwest and increased overnight to the high 20s and low 30s. At 4am I took down the main with three reefs and made our course off the wind a bit for comfort, which in this case was east-southeast. However, this system has a sharp corner to it, and by late morning had pulled winds well into the north and has pushed us much further south than I wanted to go.
As I type we are past 44 and a half south, which could put us at 45S by morning. Seas are not well developed nor large, but they have their own heft, and I’m not particularly eager to wear them on the beam; so, for the moment, we’re stuck with this course.
It is simply amazing how much air flows down here. Look at a weather map and the south looks like nothing but one low after another. What could be the terrestrial purpose, or more interestingly, effect, of so much wind frothing so much ocean? It is quite humbling to be a part of such a large and organized mass of weather. All this wind of 25 and 35 knots, blowing steadily now for 18 hours and due to go on for more, all of it is flowing toward a common center. And we are fighting to get out.
I am still sweeping-up Mo’s nooks and crannies of glass from our deluge of two weeks ago. Yesterday, while cleaning under the stove, I discovered a red lid, plastic, oblong, just a few inches long. Last I had seen it, it had been atop the Old Spice deodorant stick, whose job it is to protect. But in all my cleaning, I’ve not unearthed the stick. The deodorant flew across the cabin during the knockdown when its cupboard door opened and the contents emptied into the air. So, somewhere on Mo there is dark, sweet-smelling corner well protected from the odors of perspiration.
This article was syndicated from The Figure 8 Voyage