38:46.466N 26:59.022W

SV Eleonora
Michael A. Andronov
Mon 2 Jul 2018 05:11
UTC  & local time  0239...
 
We are approaching the Terceira  island -- the one which is located most to the North...
 
I hope we manage to clear it on the same tack,   and postpone tacking to the morning,  till the dawn...
My desire to postpone tacking  is rather  rediculas.  I've mentioned a few lines above -- '...to the North'....
And, indeed, I'm feeling we are coming to the North...
 
I'm wearing 2 switers, jeans -- and I'm feeling cold...  For the first time in years (!)  -- I see the temperature in the cabin goes to 20 C...  with hatches closed...
I know,  I'm opening a pandora box... Montreal is struggling with the heat wave,   London is struggling with the heat wave...  And here I'm -- complaining about the 20 degrees...
But let me defend myself -- after spending so long in the area, where maximum clothing you are wearing is actually the same as bare minimum acceptable -- swimming shorts -- my body complains, and asking what am I doing...  Plus, since we are beating -- there is a pretty strong breeze  ( to call it politely ) as soon as you step in the cockpit...
 
Something I miscalculated... I hope the Moon would be around.  But there is no Moon... Only the clounds... which is actually  helps as the light of Terceira are pretty visiable as reflection...
 
So,  feeling cold,  being wet -- the spray is all over  as soon as stepping on deck or the cockpit  --,  having challenges to move inside the boat, since it is constantly at 35 degree angle,  tossing all around on each wave... bringing you periodically on the edge of seasickness...  
So,  why are we doing that? Why am I doing it ?
 
' That is an adventure!!! ' . Right... It is adventures, for sure...  The adventure starts as soon as you discover the need to reach the toilet... and continues even further... as you decided to use it
 
On a second attempt to answer the question, I could say that it is all Bob and Colleen Raven  fault.  It was them who gave me as a present Jim Cornell's book -- 'World Voage Planner'... I've not even bought my current boat at that point...They probably thought that I would read the book... I did not know either that I would take it a notch further... 
 
But  it would be -- following the modern trend -- a  fake reason why I'm in the Atlantic, at the middle of the night...
 
Frankly,  I  do not know...  For me -- ' Why am I doing this ?' --is an evil question.  So many things in my life have been finished neary instantly as soon as I failed to answer that question. 
But this time -- it is different.
My best shot  to answer -- it is the compass.  The compass which is similar to Jack Sparrow's one... which is pointing to where you have to go to get what you want rather then to the magnetic North...
I think we all coming to this world  with such compass...  which starts to send us the signals with our first cry...  Our first cry, our first smile, our first demand to eat... I think -- it is all that compass... 
And then we are growing up, and  go to school... And we learn about much more important things... which one shall do to be successful,  to live good life..   We are getting educated more and more, and we are following our  small compass   less and less...   
 
I think the last attempt of our small compass to wake us up, to keep us listening,  to stand againt the ' big true compasses' -- our first love...
But how many of those sucseeded ?  I'm the same...  But compas is still playing tricks... I still remember  addess, phone. voice... though those long time gone, and have no sense at all...
 
But I was lucky...  I  managed to regain ability to listen to mine compass. And to follow it against all odds... And then I lost it... or was it taken from me, in  2015?  
 
I started to hear it again. On my boat...  And I know the rules pretty well -- I'm following it... against all odds... warmed up by the endless hope to  find the place,  the shore -- which most probably does not exist...  Where the bright lighthouse is a symbol of all forgotten simpble believes,  traded once  for the ' rules of the respectuf typical life',  where it is simple to find a space near the fireplace,  where I'm remembered, where we are always welcomed... 
I'm looking for that place,   changing courses, as  looking into and following my compass... Sometimes, I have a feeling -- one step left... next moment -- the feeling that the step  might be longer then life... 
But until there is hope to find this  magic place --  we are sailing...   Who knows, may be it does exist? And may be I  manage to find it? 
Just follow the signals...
 
Today it points somewhere,  in UK...    And that is why we are beating against Northerly winds, while all others -- are waiting for the favourable weather...
 
M.