As scheduled, I left for St Lucia, with my Australian passport in the hands of the US embassy, to be posted on to the Castries DHL office. I think I mentioned the trip from Barbados was only 67nm, which was a mistake. I had punched in the northern most waypoint given by a 2006 St Lucia Imray chart, without first plotting it to get an idea of the distance, and it read 67nm… When I did do a proper sail plan, I plotted the waypoints and noticed the provided waypoint was a printing mistake, with the true distance being 104nm! I was a little disappointed at the mistake, having timed my journey based on the first figure. Nevertheless, I left anyway at 5pm, hoping I could arrive in under 24 hours, so I wouldn’t be stuck anchoring in the dark, or without customs clearance.

Little happened on the trip across, except a strange vessel mid-way that was lit up like a Christmas tree. It was at anchor, but showed no signs of life other than the vast array of lights. Headed straight for it, Merv the Mer-Veille, (a new addition to Constellation) picked up the vessel several miles out. I failed to mention that just before I left Las Palmas, and one of the reasons I was a few days late in leaving, was because I received a generous present from my Uncle, which performed really well across the Atlantic. Merv picked up several vessels I’d missed doing visual checks, and picked up all the ships I’d seen myself along the way. It’s not a fail-safe means to just going to sleep all night without looking around, but it does give an added sense of security. And if it’s good enough for all the French singlehanders, it’s good enough for me!

Constellation also seemed a little confused on the trip, thinking she was a catamaran, because we flew the entire way! Past Deep Water harbour in Barbados, a ferry was about to cross the Atlantic, with a few passengers waving to me in the distance, as I seemingly headed back into my old habits of sailing towards the setting sun. I was a little queasy with seasickness, but munched on a stick of ginger I had, and lay in my bunk as we averaged 5.5kts to Rodney Bay:

While the above anchorage is rather pretty, I decided to stay in the inner lagoon, as there was quite a wind blowing, and my anchor setup is less than perfect. Also not having an outboard makes it hard to row around in the bay itself, especially when the wind is up. I’m quite certain I could be the only person in the entire Caribbean still out here paddling about with oars… I try hard to pretend I’m an old tough fisherman from Maine with steely arms, as I slowly venture past the charter boats and other assorted expensive vessels in the lagoon, but I’m only kidding myself. The charter catamarans are the worst, with 20 beautiful people from Martinique, drinking rum punch with a pumping stereo, waving to the guy rowing into 25kts of wind.

Constantly nervous about the rusty 6mm chain on my anchor, I splurged on buying 35ft of new 8mm chain from the local chandlery. It was all I could afford, and less than adequate, but it’s better than what I have, and the idea of dragging backwards into an expensive boat gives me nightmares. I’d have to sell up to pay for the damage.

Thanks to Matt & Karen aboard S/V Where II, I received some new photos of me departing Las Palmas to cross the Atlantic - Thanks guys!

A few more on the photos page.

Tomorrow I hope my Visa will have arrived from Barbados, and so I’ll keep trucking north, possibly on Tuesday or Wednesday. Martinique is around 25miles (but don’t quote me!) so I think I’ll stop there for a day or two on route. I have some housing difficulties back in Berlin, with a suprise bill from the electricity company I’m trying to sort out, before it drains every last penny I have, and I have to start selling Guava from my dinghy…

nick

Arriving in Barbados after Europe was a culture shock - I did very little research on the country, (other than how to sail to here), so everything was a suprise; when traveling, I always think it’s best to have zero expectations, so you can never be disappointed! Upon docking in Port St Charles, I had to see Customs, Health and Immigration. This was all a big deal in comparison to Europe, where if you are an EU citizen it’s quite literally plain sailing (except for Portugal, who like paperwork…). Everyone was incredibly friendly, and I guess that set the tone for the rest of my stay. The Immigration department insisted I drink plenty of Rum, meet a local girl and party hard. He said you only live once.

In Port St Charles, they have a small marina with private berths, and a few ‘visitor’ berths. Of course, they really only want visitors who sail enormous yachts (ie. greater than 100feet). Naturally, Constellation didn’t fit that criteria, but fortunately she fit the ‘Oh my God, you sailed the Atlantic in THAT?’ criteria, so I guess you get a little bit of respect, for insanity rather than the size of your wallet. The dockmaster was however fairly adamant that ’small boats stay in Bridgetown’ (which is secret code for: Please leave, your size is hurting the look of the superyachts!). So, it was a gentle sail down to Bridgetown, where I anchored out the front of the yacht club.

To travel throughout Barbados, there are several choices. If you have money, you can take a taxi. If not, there is the public bus system and the private bus system. The public system run ordinary blue buses, but the private buses are slightly smaller and yellow, or there are the mini buses, called ‘ZR’s’. If the slowness of my voyage had been less than thrilling, the private buses made up for it. To describe a typical journey: As the private buses work on commission, they race each other for customers. On one bus, they purposely blocked traffic so a competing bus couldn’t overtake! Sporting Magnaflow exhaust systems, graffitied dash boards, the drivers wearing racing gloves and spoilers, these guys get you places, quick. The stereo system blurts out banging hip hop, the school kids sing pitch perfect to the lyrics, and the grandmas nod their heads, syncopated. The radio station they play is also interesting, the DJ insisting on singing over the top of the current track, and dimming the song to exclaim ‘yo yo, let’s party till luncheon’ or something similar - I’m just imagining a station in Melbourne with one of our horrible breakfast radio DJ’s singing over the top of Hotel California… An awful thought. The smartly dressed school boys (their uniform obviously still around since British rule) wear insignias reading ‘Fear God, Think Clean, Aim High’. As you can imagine, I alighted for the beach bar with WIFI, thinking with cleanliness, but fearing rain over other things of a higher nature… Besides, I don’t think God ever intended us to fear much of anything, but it was a complex argument to pose to the kid sitting next to me, while the reggae was turned up so loud.

Upon first impressions of the Caribbean, it really does seem everyone is quite simply, cool - I’ve been transported back to being the dorky kid at school… Even the old men have an aura of coolness I could only aspire to. I guess here I’m the dorky white guy, and that in itself is interesting. With the majority of ‘native’ Barbadians coming from a lineage of sugar cane slaves (of African lineage), it’s a new feeling being well in the minority after Europe. The last time I felt like I was being looked at as a curiosity, was an accidental tour of some less than intelligent places to be walking in Bronx during 2004. The difference is, everyone here is immensely friendly and open. It’s difficult to get used to people saying hello to you on the street, and not wanting anything. Coming from a culture where you don’t get anything for free, the ‘Bajans’ are on the whole lovely and friendly people. Just yesterday while I was out ‘exploring’ the countryside near the Airport, I had ran out of change - A man at the bus stop insisted he give me the exact coinage for the fair (they don’t accept anything other than the correct money). Not to mention Martin who I had been conversing with via email who provided a lot of pilotage info for my arrival, and handed me some money before departing on his own Atlantic voyage, exclaiming ‘a donation for your trip’ - Thank you kindly Martin.

After marveling at the colour and warmth of the water (this took a few days…) I proceeded onto the more bureaucratic aspects of my stay here, namely my requirement for a US visa. I visited the embassy, and was told to fill out a form online… I did that, and went back the following day, spending two hours waiting in various lines and sitting in offices waiting for my number to be called. Eventually number 62 was called up, and I had the opportunity to talk to a real person, at which point I was told I needed proof of employment, and a bank statement showing I had sufficient funds to enter the country! As you can imagine, I’ve been sailing since August of 2007, and employment is not really my forte. Neither is sufficient money. With the help of a former employer, I procured a letter and a bank statement, which magically did the trick… I also needed to provide a form because I’m male, and between the age of 16 and 45, which has something to do with terrorism. I had to list all the countries I’d visited in a tiny box within the last ten years; a list extending off the side of the page… Eventually I soldiered back to the embassy with all my paperwork, and arrived at 0730, exiting at at lunchtime, with my visa approved, being sent on to St Lucia early next week. Great day! Next time I decide to sail into Fort Knox, I think I’ll better prepare my entry - For example, getting this visa months before, ie. when I was meandering through Europe or getting myself stuck in various places for lack of cash.

After my embassy delights, I had to extricate a Sonim XP1 mobile phone that was generously donated by Sonim Technologies, from customs at the Airport. After providing a commercial invoice stating a demo value, the cheeky people at customs opened the package, and Googled the phone online, and took the duty value from the most expensive retail value they could find! The duty was calculated at 20%, even though the package stated ‘yacht in transit’… Personally, I think it was illegal of them to charge me duty, but I couldn’t find specific documentation to say I was essentially ’stateless’ and exempt - I tried the ‘I don’t have to pay duty on retail items, why should I pay it on items posted to me as gifts’? They didn’t get it. Thankfully Sonim fronted the duty bill, which is most appreciated - Thank you to Angela at Sonim Tech in San Mateo for the phone, and also for all the assistance in actually getting my hands on it! Having destroyed one phone in the North Sea, I think the XP1 is better built for the task of sailing and being constantly dropped!

My second real gripe with Barbados, and something that kind of tainted the nice stay I was having here, was being told I had to pay $50 to leave the country, when I went to get my paperwork stamped at customs. No one ever told me of this charge, and it certainly isn’t documented anywhere (there is one place it mentions a $25 charge if you’re over 5 tons). I spent a lot of time petitioning the clearance fee, spending four and a half hours at the customs office. I know, $50 doesn’t sound like much, and I’ve paid much more for marinas in Europe, but nowadays I just can’t afford it, and that money could be a week or two of food… Even though this all really annoyed me, the customs guys made me coffee, and even fed me cake! So, what can I say… The people are fantastic, but rules maybe not so much, especially for small-time sailors. Barbados is a convenient place to stop if you need a US visa, but due to the clearance fee (and this is really only applicable to poor small cruisers), and general cost of things in Barbados, I would have to recommend that people continue on the 70nm to St Lucia. This is a disappointing recommendation, but the Barbados government don’t really seem interested in small cruisers entering their country, and I guess that’s what’s going to eventuate: Already I’ve met several people who’ve said fewer and fewer people are arriving via private vessels (except the super elite).

So today, I head off to St Lucia! I’ll leave at night to sail in the cool of the moon, and arrive with plenty of daylight as I sail into Rodney Bay. Below are a few photos (a hard reset on my screen-less digital camera brought it back to life!)

Sunset, Carslile Bay, Bridgetown, Barbados

Luckily ‘Constellation’ has a good ‘Constatution’…

Constellation, at anchor in Bridgetown

Carslile Bay, Bridgetown, Barbados

More photos at the usual place.

-moby nick!

The two podcasts that went AWOL when the site went down (days 24 and 30) can be played here:

Day 24
Day 30

I have a few photos on my Photos page, however as I said, my camera broke pretty early on - I have a video camera on loan from Jack, which I took some photos with, but it’s really for video, not for stills!

A regular but sorry sight! Kamikaze flying fish on deck

Also a fairly regular sight - Line squalls.

Windy the Windpilot, rocking it for 2700nm across the Atlantic. Look Ma, no hands!

The last photo is at Port St Charles, Barbados, at the clearance dock for immigration/customs and health. You can’t tell, but there was swell surging around the breakwater, and poor Constellation was being crushed. I put tons of lines on after that photo, and high-tailed it out of there to the anchorage after the paperwork was done with.

Check the few other photos I have (but I have tons of video, although I don’t have a fast enough computer to extract it!!) here.

And last but not least, are the the days from 15 - 30 of my crossing. As I said earlier, the quotes are from books I was reading at the time.:

—

Day 16

I.am.bored.

“We seem to be born to be dissatisfied” -Steiner

Day 17

Felling a little stir crazy and impatient now, with still at least 12 days to go, assuming wind stays as is. Thinking way too much… It’s impossible to stop all this mental junk coming into your head and invading your thoughts. On land you can distract yourself. Here there is nothing, but to battle it in an mental arena. Except *I* (or is it the id?) always lose…! Days, nights and weeks are all one. Or none. I ate jelly beans for breakfast.

“God growed us up till we could wear long pants, then he licensed his name to dollar bills, left some car keys on the table, and got the fuck outta town… Don’t be lookin up at the sky for no help. Look down here, at us twisted dreamers.” -DBC Pierre

Day 18

I found some old cough drops in my jacket pocket. I don’t have a cough, but they taste good. The first tanker I’ve seen in two weeks steamed past today, and was picked up by the radar detecter. We did 125nm today.

“Those who steer a boat across the sea, or drive a horse over the earth till they succumb to the weight of the years, spend every minute of their lives travelling” -Basho

Day 19

Hairy sail change at dawn… At least the water is warm now, because I got an involuntary shower, the bow dunking heavily. But the boat is happier now, not have so much canvas up. Swell is annoyingly choppy, and we are doing 5.5kts under my smallest Jib (one before Storm jib). I would be intrigued to know exactly what speed the wind is at the moment… We did 135nm today (our record).

“We live as we dream; alone” -Joseph Conrad

Day 20

Very bad day. Squall, then contrary winds. Boat rolling around like crazy. Curled up in my bunk, bracing myself with knees and back just to hold me still. It’s difficult to explain, but there is this little thing underneath your psyche out here all the time, which is silently aware that some things are just chance. No matter how good you are at sailing, there is always the possibility you will be hit with bad luck, and this is a thing that goes over in your mind out here when you’re alone. You suppress it 99% of the time, but today, I guess I weakened up. I feel like crying, Ellen McArthur style, but what I’m doing is nothing in comparison so I don’t. Much’o extra respect for her.

“See, it’s a brave man that weeps!” (Starbuck exclaims to Ahab) -Melville

Day 21

Three weeks. Two more ships picked up on the radar detector. Today I feel much better. We’re still rolling a lot, but that’s life. My noodles are balanced on a washboard, on my lap. I raised more sail to ensure we did the minimum 120nm/day quota. I think we are in good shape to make landfall in eight days. Night fell with an ominous squally horizon. Reduced sail just before dark.

Day 22

Increased sail this morning, and cleaned the deck of flying fish. Man, they get everywhere! Today is as was yesterday, as was the day before, yet one day closer to land….

“I’ve neer been lonely. I’ve been in a room. I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful beyond all, but I’ve never felt that one other person, could enter that room and make a difference. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with, because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude.” -Charles Bukowski

Day 23

I have a bit of a sore throat today, which I suspect is the result of 23 days of bad food. The wind died down a bit today… Argh! I’m not sure if we’ll do our 120nm today. I found a rusty old can of tinned Tesco Rice Pudding in the caverness depths of Constellations storage crannies. Great day! The Genoa is flogging in the light airs. This annoys me.

“No, I must lie alone
Till it comes for me;
Till it takes the sky, the sand
And the lonely sea.” -Thomas Pynchon

Day 24

Woke up again with a sore throat. I also feel tired. Rummaging around I managed to find a bottle of expired vitamin C tablets. I overdosed. Last night a flying fish some how landed in the cabin, and buzzed around the floor. I was asleep, and dreamt of short circuiting wires. All of a sudden I realised it was a localised sound, and thought the boat was short circuiting! And then I looked down to see a smelly fish on the floor - Still flapping, I picked it up with the frying pan and hurled it out the door. I estimate the wind to be blowing F3 now. This is frustrating, because it’s consistent, and I’m concerned we’ve simply hit the belt of light-airs. But, it’s a perfect sunny day, and the swell is much less, so I can’t really complain.

Day 25

We have really slowed down now… Doing around 90nm/day. Some parts of the day I am frustrated by this, others I’m non-plussed. The only problem is, I’m really running out of nice things to eat! (’Nice’ being a relative term…!)

“Without serious storms my small ship of fate sailed through the sea of life; and if on the occasion it took the wrong course, then providential navigation steered it back in the right direction”. Xaver Scharwenka

Day 26

Ok, now speed is really frustrating me a lot. Forget the zen stuff, I’m fucking annoyed. I decided to try out a goosewing configuration with the rig, which all up took 35 minutes to put up, including the time to dismantle my previous setup. I smashed my elbow raising the mainsail, and it’s bleeding and really hurts. I jumped around on deck yelling profanities for quite some time, remembering soon after my sore throat. Which is worse now. Finally up, it turned out to be useless. The swell simply kicks the boat sideways, and we gybe. I thought maybe we’d get away with it, but no… I should have trusted my instincts. Now I have to put everything back. We’re doing a whopping 3kts, and now the wind keeps changing, so the windvane sends us off course. Already three squalls have blown over, leaving behind a windshadow, and rain. I suspect it’s these squalls hovering around that have been playing with the wind. Every morning I have such a feeling of urgency, and glancing at the GPS ‘To Go’ field makes me furious at our slow progress. However, by mid to late-afternoon, my anger subsides, and I don’t really care if we have another 1000nm’s to go. Mornings are for impatient youth/evenings for more gentlemanly thoughts/and aspirations.

“Let others bemoan the maliciousness of their age. What irks me, is its pettiness, for ours is an age without passion… My life comes out all one colour.” -Kierkegaard

Day 27

At our current pace we’ll be in Barbados within three nights! Why am I complaining about progress again!? It won’t be long before I start feeling nostalgic about this whole voyage… A tanker steamed past me last night on the starboard side. I gave it a solute and went back to bed. As you know I always salute cardinal buoys for guiding me away from dangers - As such, tankers should be thanked, for not running you down! It’s hot in here… I spent the afternoon listening to Jeff Bucky bootlegs.

“Waiting for joyous tomorrows, is what kills joyous todays.” Raoul Vaniegem

Day 28

Closer, closer! It’s Friday, we’ll be in port by Sunday. I know it. I feel i’ll be stuck on the boat till Monday though due to customs clearance… Maybe I’ll sneak ashore though, during the night, just to make sure a place to stand that doesn’t pitch and roll actually exists.

“Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very edge of despair.” -Bertrand Russel

Day 29

I was hoping to break the 30 day barrier by arriving today, but I still have 24hours to go! Nevermind. I’m so happy, I virtually done it… It’s strange though, I don’t feel particularly excited, or even anxious right now. I guess now I’m just so used to being out here…

“For nonconformity the world whips you with its displeasure.” -Emerson

Day 30

Wow, it’s done. I arrived at 14:10 in Port St Charles. I docked on the fuel birth, and stood on land. It was an incredibly odd feeling. I had to see Customs, Immigration and Health before being allowed back on my boat… I went out and anchored in Six Mans Bay. The water is warm, there are kids playing on the beach, the sand is white, and I just can’t believe it. How beautiful; great day.

“The concept of freedom has two aspects; the first concerns the individual, who is free to do as he pleases; the second, more important, has to do with sharing the fruit of our free actions with others.” -Lucrezia De Domizio Durini

—

nick.

The website has been down for awhile, and it’s taken me four hours of solid work to figure out and fix the problems. Thank you to Marty for spending a lot of time also attempting to fix it, and for dealing with the podcasts over the last month - I hope you enjoyed them. I know I certainly enjoyed having ’someone’ to tell my stories to. The last two are in the archives if you’re interested. It was pretty neat to think I was calling from the middle of nowhere, sending information back onto the web, being listened to by many. Thanks for all the comments of support, and I must say, having them forwarded to my phone certainly made some of the dark days light again. Thanks Dad for forwarding them - Sorry I couldn’t reply, but my phone is not equipped to - It can only receive.

Over the thirty days I wrote a little journal, which I’m including below. The quotes are all from books or music I was reading or listening to at the time - In the next post I’ll paste the remaining 30 days.

Thank you so much to everyone, and I’ll post with some photos and anything else I can think of soon - Unfortunately my camera broke, so I only have a few photos… But I’ll dig something up!

—-

Day 1

I left today, with nice winds and a birthday present at the marina office from Tudor (thanks again!). The man at the Diesel pump also gave me some tshirts and explained to his friend that yes, I was actually leaving to cross the Atlantic right now, singlehanded! To which he didn’t believe.

Day 2

Conditions went from nice sailing to moderate… Feeling seasick.

“I’m a seasick sailor on a ship up north, I got my maps all backwards” -Beck

Day 3

Tired and very annoyed. Large cross swell. Thrown across cabin from bunk by slamming cross wave, frankly I’m amazed nothing broke (including me)… Constellation is a battle axe. Very little sleep and am overpowered but I’m too tired to change the headsail down.

Day 4

Everything is wet. Copious amounts of water entering the cockpit from breaking waves. Lying in bunk with eyes closed, but unable to sleep. Again, thrown out of bed violently by a cross wave. Is the whole trip going to be like this? I couldn’t do 25 days of this.

Day 5

Conditions getting much better. Boat rolling a lot. I’ve spent so much time trying to stabalise things, but nothing works. From staysail-like configurations to even attempting to haul the storm jib up the main! (I cobbled something together, but it didn’t really help). Finally got some good sleep last night.

Day 6

Called my Dad, and asked him to email Rich in Oregon for some weather advice, and to see if the Tradewinds were far enough North to consider turn for Barbados yet. (Writing again in the afternoon) The wind has strangely has disappeared! I’m becalmed! I caught an enormous fish today. It was too big for me to eat alone, and I couldn’t bear the thought of killing it and only eating half. Sent it back to sea. Getting a little frustrated by the lack of wind…

Day 7

One week at sea. Becalmed all night, but at least I slept well. The wind has now turned Westerly??? Strange. At least I can sail South West quite comfortably… Lots of water over the deck though, as the swell is a little confused, and choppy. Drank coffee and ate muffins for breakfast and finished one of my books today. (Thanks Mai Ly!). Stood on deck for awhile and yelled for no real reason. (Writing again in the afternoon) Received Iridium SMS from Rich regarding weather… Which to paraphrase was “You might sail into a wind hole if you keep going that direction” … Too late, I already did! Because of the large cross swell in the first few days, I spent too much time going West, and now I’m paying for it. Based on a projected course, Rich gave me weather updates and gave me a waypoint to aim for where I might find good winds again.

Day 8

I didn’t sleep very well last night, with variable winds fooling the windvane, having me up and down out of bed trying to adjust it and get every mile out of what was available. Which didn’t really add up to much… I should have just sailed in circles and gone to sleep. Depressed most of the day, and spent some time in the sun to try and cheer up. It didn’t work, just giving me a headache. Made scrambled eggs with canned asparagus for lunch, and tried to read a little, while listening to Miles Davis. Unfortunately I have one of Miles’ albums from the early 1990’s - My god, what a terrible period in his career… I haven’t plotted my position for two days now, because I know we will have progressed so little. Which would probably make my depression even worst. Ate mashed potatoes for dinner.

Day 9

It’s incredible how overwhelming the smell of things is out here. The smell of a match is amazing!

“The majority of men lead lives of quiet desperation” -Thoreau

Day 10

Made pancackes and phoned in another podcast. I also received comments from the website as well as friends from home, which really made my day. That little contact lit me right up! My high spirits were dampened somewhat by a squall in the afternoon and lack of wind…

“To be truly challenging, like life, a voyage must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest” -Stirling Hayden

Day 11

Wind still light and coming from the wrong freaking direction (West/West South West)… Really confused about the weather now. Ended up calling Takir in the Kazak ship to see how he was going. Their vessel is about 600nm in front of me, and they left on the same day! I guess in those first few days of hairy sailing they got a good few miles under their belts, and got closer to the trades before the wind change. Having said that, Takhir said there was only light wind at his current position…

“Every ship is a romantic object, except the one we sail in. Embark, and the romance quits our vessel and hangs on every other sail on the horizon” -Emerson

Day 12

Ok, new forecast from Rich, predicting one more day of WSW wind, then calm, then a reappearance of the trades! Hooorah!! Bored today. It’s hot and I have another headache.

“I look out of my window in the morning when I rise, as I would out of a port-hole of a ship in the Atlantic” -Melville

Day 13

At last! The forecast was out a day on the emergence of the NE winds (a good thing). A gentle F3 wind is now coming from the North, and we’re on a beam reach heading WEST!! Doing 4kts, boat stable with the main up, very enjoyable. A flat bank of clouds is overhead, extending to the horizon. The sailing is perfect!

“For whatever its merits, I would like to think that there is just as much of frustration and failure as there is of free-swinging, fare rolling times when, however rough the going, you have the feeling “Fuck it! I wouldn’t swap places with anyone else for anything on this earth” -Stirling Hayden

Day 14

Wow, two weeks at sea. There is something so driving about the sun rising from the stern, and setting on the bow… It’s like a the sun is giving you a navigational wink, and an aesthetic burst before illuminating another hemisphere.

“Fear by day; terror by night” -British small boat lore

Day 15

Depressed. Hardly slept last night. Boat is rolling like hell (Wind shifted to ENE am under Genoa alone). Lay on the floor of the boat, as it’s the lowest centre of gravity, but still, impossible to sleep. 1700nm to go .. Boat going fast. Found my first flying fish on deck.

—

I’ll post the remaining 15 days soon!

-nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick

Click the ‘Play’ button to hear the latest satellite update:

nick