Heading South with Hope

If you’re tracking our progress, we’ve been following a more southern course to try to escape what I’ve started calling the “purple cloud” (the color of no wind on my weather prediction app). By heading south, we should be making our way towards the cloud’s edge where we’ll hopefully find better wind tomorrow and the day after. At this point, we’re estimating arrival in Mindelo on the 20th.

The thing about sailing is it’s not always glorious. With light winds, the hum of the motors can feel imposing on the otherwise peaceful expanse of the ocean. The constant clattering of the boom and luffing of the sails (when we’ve even tried having them up) can feel like nails on a chalkboard to the hopeful sailor.

But even with the slog of waiting and making do, it’s hard to be out here and not experience magical moments if you’re paying attention. Some things recently that have felt magical to me:

• The feeling of the breeze on my face through the hatch in my cabin while resting or sleeping

• The way the sun rays reach deep into the crystal clear water of the calm waves

• The excitement of spotting a boat on the horizon before the AIS system tracks it. Bonus points if it’s a sailboat - they’re probably cruising a similar route.

• Finishing a book and starting a new one

• A weird new snack that’s like a hash brown turned potato chip (Connor, wish you could try, I know how you love new snacks)

• The sound of the gennaker, in all its luffing in these light winds, finally catching the breeze, snapping open and gliding silently for a few moments. A small, hopeful, moment of peace.

• The flying fish that seem to glide for longer than I would think possible

• Cold coconut water

• Yesterday’s moonrise: a red-ish orb ascending

Fingers firmly crossed for that wind tomorrow. If it delays, I’m sure there will be more books to read and swimming to be had.

E