It has been 40 hours since we gybed*, the motion aboard is a little different: we now bounce off the galley counter instead of flying across the cabin. Oh, who am I kidding, we still occasionally fly too. The night before last we were digging around our bilge clearing a clog so our bilge pump could run effectively once again, not a fun job to do in the semi-darkness, but a necessary one. The pump is happy once again, and the crew is happy too, especially after catching up on its sleep.
These past few mornings, we've been collecting flying fish who have been meeting their demise on Nyon's deck. Remember the scene in Life of Pi? Well, it's not like that. Our record is 9 fishes in one morning. I feel sad for those fishes, after seeing schools of them flying and leaping about, to have the only stupid boat in hundreds of miles get in the way one fateful night.
We are nearing the halfway mark, having traveled 1200 nautical miles so far. We have 1545 miles to go. Right now, it feels like there is no beginning or ending, it is as though we are suspended in time.
*To gybe: when the wind crosses astern as you turn and haul the sail to the other side, (if you're passing the bow through the wind, the same process would be called tacking.)
Position: 11* 57.509' N 125* 56.700' W
Distance: 125 nm
Heading: 212* T
Speed: 5.2 knots