You may have noticed that this update comes a lot earlier than most. That is because, along with the complete lack of weather I’ve been having, there is no gentle breeze to keep the temperature vaguely tolerable. At the moment it’s claiming to be 45C, although how accurate that is I’m not entirely sure. Whatever it is, it’s a real struggle to row in (I appreciate that, given it is February, I may not get too much sympathy from anyone in England, but still!). Therefore, I’m doing this now so that it hopefully allows me to row a bit more once the sun sets. That’s the plan at least!
Once again, the wind is refusing to pick up or come round. I’m practically begging for a nice firm easterly wind to get me going again, but it just refuses to turn up. The forecast is suggesting 20 knot winds later in the week, but at the moment I really can’t imagine it. So it’s been another dull day of slow progress. At this rate, I may be spending Christmas out here.
We did have a bit of drama at lunchtime though. As I was fluffing my couscous (as instructed by the box!) seemingly rather too vigorously, my cutlery broke. I do have a spare (well, I actually have two, but where the other one is I have no idea), but it still called for a bit of emergency surgery. Here we have another use for Pete’s footwell - operating theatre! After investigating the fracture, I decided there was only one viable solution: a lollipop stick splint, held on with cable-ties, all superglued on for extra strength, with a self-amalgamating tape bandage. The procedure went very well, although I’m still resting the instrument unless he’s desperately needed. I bet the veterinary world is regretting losing me now!
Which brings me neatly (and completely unplanned) to something I realised today: the sea and the weather act just like animals, and the only way to deal with them is to treat them like one. If you pick a foot off the ground when holding a cow, you can be sure it’ll choose that moment to pull away - likewise with waves. Show a sheep a beautiful green field through a wide open gate, and it’ll prefer to fight for the 3-inch gap to get to the stone pathway; I’m sure the winds would love to go to Antigua, and quickly, but they just seem suspicious of me and won’t do it.
So I’ve made a decision: I’m not going to Antigua. I’m going to Africa instead, and I’d like to get there really slowly. If you could let the wind know that, that’d be marvellous.
(that should do it!)
