None Too Soon

None Too Soon

This sort of thing ended none too soon. It got worse before it got better as the wind fell to whispers and the swell remained. It took another 24 hours before the mixed Westerly, Southwesterly and Northerly swell faded.

Trying to get a morning Sun sight took a record 20 minutes. In the end, I tied the air vane on  the Monitor down to stop the cursed thing from waving uselessly back and forth as the boat pitched and rolled. Working at the chart table, I spent more time chasing pencils, protractors, and dividers as they skated about than actually figuring and plotting. All of this under the watchful stare of Sir Salty McNavigator. I would swear I saw him shaking his head in disbelief, amusement, or both.

My frustrations melted away when I wrote the date down. July 11. Dates before were for bookkeeping. It occurred to me very suddenly that I would do this sort of thing on three more sheets only. It wasn’t a date anymore, it was a clock counting down and already near zero.

ETA at my Point of Departure is now 5 days away. ETA in Victoria barring disaster, no more than 7. One single week. One week out of nearly 36. All of it is already a blur. Where did the time go? It seems more dream than done. What on earth (literally) will I do with myself when there won’t be watches to stand, sails to tend, and courses to figure?

No wonder Moitessier turned around.

Follow my tracks in real-time:
https://bit.ly/svseaburban