(Underway, 120 Nautical Miles)
Well we finally caught a fish. If you could call it that. It was the saddest fish in every sense of the experience. First of all, it was the tiniest little puffer fish you ever did see. And secondly, it didn’t even bite the hook so much as the hook bit it. Yup, right in the side of the poor little bugger. Must have just nicked him in passing. Talk about bad luck!
Greg managed to dislodge the hook in the most delicate way channel locks would allow and we sincerely hope the little gaffer is back to swimming pleasantly through the big blue now.
On the sailing front life is still grand! We were within radio contact – shotty radio contact, but radio contact nonetheless – with Ednbal throughout the day. We both slightly adjusted our preferred courses allowing us to come together more. Then around 2 am our light, but steadfast friend the wind decide to pack it in. With no wind and the calmest of seas we opted for the drift. We dropped the sails and simply just bobbed. Letting the Pacific Ocean take us were it may.
Don’t be fooled. Eventhough we were drifting virgins popping our cherries over 400 miles out to sea, we didn’t come ill prepared. Our prior route planning and leading trail to date put us smack dab in 1-2 knot current going in exactly the right direction.
Our first big drift lasted only two hours. A time long enough for me to pretend we didn’t need our regularly observed one-man-always-on-deck rule for a grand total of about 25 minutes. Also leaving enough time for me to fit in a wild dream about unknowingly drifting over shallow, underwater volcanoes, barely dodging their disastrous craters, then floating down a narrow channel before coming to rest on our keels in next to no water. I’m pretty sure there’s something to be said here for the consumption of large amounts of chocolate before bed. I’m not the one that’s going say it.