Well, yesterday was a day of two halves. After my frankly rather smug message proclaiming how marvellous everything was and I’m only disappointed I hadn’t gone 4,000 miles overnight, the ocean decided to teach me a lesson.
There I was, lying back in the cabin, a nice breeze blowing through the open hatches when, all of a sudden, a catastrophic event occurred. Quite where it came from, I have no idea, but for the amount of devastation it caused, I have reason to put it forward as a viable weapon of mass destruction. No, this was not the odour of an ocean rower (I doubt they’ll be bottling that any time soon), but quite the opposite - water.
From a lake-like ocean, a splash jumped out and glided perfectly through the open hatch. In all reality, the amount of water was tiny, but that had no bearing on the havoc it caused. My sleeping bag was wet, all the cushions were wet, the whole place was covered with small, but incredibly annoying, puddles.
One of the hardest things to do on a rowing boat is to dry something. Especially when it keeps on raining. In fact, the only way to remove any moisture from the cabin is to open both hatches - the very thing that had caused the problem in the first place!
I did the best I could with vast amounts of loo and quite frankly the most useless towels in the world, but it was no good. Things were not going to be dried that night. I was grumpy, to put it very mildly.
Today came, and I made a tactical decision. At this stage in the row, things are starting to fall apart a little, and not just body parts. Mostly I have spares, but if they break, I have problems. The weather today was dead; unhelpful in its death, but dead all the same. However, from tomorrow morning, I have reason to believe the winds will not only turn in my favour, but will build up and remain strong favourable winds for the best part of a week.
So, as you may have noticed, I haven’t made much progress today. Instead I have taken advantage of the light seas to fix everything that needed fixing and prepare everything to ensure I can make the most of every bit of the favourable conditions.
Supplies have been collected from hatches, medical equipment has been replenished, the kitchen has been put back together (not only had it fallen apart, but it was only really any good for demonstrations of burning oil fields. Personally I find I need to cook more regularly), things that need to be in dry places have in fact been put in dry places, things that are not needed at all have been put as far away as possible, floors have been sured up, hatches have been sealed, sea anchors and drogues have been prepared, water has been made (this, sadly, does not involve a kind of atomic dating agency - “Mr Oxygen, I have just the thing for you: what do you think about these two hydrogens? I think you’ll get along just fine. Oh, another oxygen. May I interest you in this fine pair? Just share an electron with each, and I’ve no doubt you can keep them both satisfied.” - I’m sure it would be a fun, if slightly labour intensive, process), and not one, but two loo rolls have been made available.
Blimey, that was a long sentence.
It’s been a busy but I think very useful day, despite the lack of progress. Pete has never been so prepared for making simply devastating progress towards Antigua.
The only question that remains to be answered is: am I?!
