23:40:42S

157:43:93E
Another night hanging onto this damn tiller, our arms have lengthened and my bingo wings have vanished. 

Weather forecast for Sunday was due to be 20 knots+ winds with a 5 metre swell…eeeeks!  So we were glad when Sunday dawned lovely and sunny with rolling Cotswold swell that Hebe glided over with ease and enough wind to keep her at a steady 7 knots. I still need to be strapped to my station like having a seat belt on.

…as you can see it's not quite like being in the Mini.

 I did have a moment when a huge wave had me sliding down the coach roof to the next dorade (ventilation funnel - Ed).  However the dreaded forecast never materialised, perhaps due to the hymn singing I did during the night.  Harry sometimes says 'Well, the weather can't be that bad, she's not singing hymns yet'!

Over the day the sea settled down and we could get down to the important business of cooking, bacon butties for breakfast…the best. 

Looking super cool even though he can't walk afterwards. 

Late afternoon Hebe was surrounded by dolphins, Pan Tropical Spotted ones to be exact, and very playful they were too. There's so much more life in these waters. I guess perhaps it's because the Australians don't allow the Asian factory ships to come. There are masses of sea birds, swooping over the shoals of fish below. Where's our rod to catch a yellow fin tuna??? Rats and double rats!! The people of Tonga said they watch helplessly as the factory ships come and clear their waters of fish. They shout at them pointlessly from the shore.  

Gorgeous sunset which we were all on deck to watch, and we definitely saw the illusive green flash. The great red orb drops over the horizon and just after a green mini sun pops up for a second. We have been looking for one for months.  All good signs. During the night we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn so have officially left the Tropics. The weather feels rather Moroccan, baking in the sun and freezing out of it, and really chilly at night bbbbrrrr. Why did we take our winter woolies home? 

We had all set aside this final voyage to sort out our photos and GoPro film, the best laid plans etc…instead we've spent long hours playing tiller games and cherishing our memories.

It had me thinking about dinghies, I'd just like to put in a word for these perky little friends who have ferried us enthusiastically ashore at every anchorage (last marina was Panama). 

 Always cheerful and slightly cheeky they would all wait on the dinghy dock bumping into each other looking forward to our return, like eager puppies. 

 At each new anchorage our ARCy friends would wizz around visiting each other, looking almost comical perched on the side of these trusty craft.  

Often driven solo, the driver hanging onto the painter at the front like the reins of a pony. The most impressive solo driver was the photographer on the finish line in St Lucia who managed to take spectacular pictures of all the arriving yachts whilst screaming along at top speed steering with his legs. 

Imo and I gave our dinghy her last scrub on the beach in Port Vila before she was strung up on the stern with her nightie on….she took us to so many magical places..bless.