A touch of lethargy has set in. There is a little wind and even from the right direction for us and we’re bobbing along quite  gently under Genoa only. We could put the main sail up and bob a little more quickly but the effort hardly seems worthwhile. Michael has Gillian Welch singing to us on his music machine and we all feel far too relaxed to bother with things like getting to wherever it is we’re going. We’ll regret it tomorrow when the wind dies I suppose but that’s a matter for tomorrow.

 

We’ve passed a few pink plastic bags in the last twenty fours hours or they could be pink Mohican hairdos from the look of them. In actual fact they’re jelly fish and I think they are Portuguese Man of War ones. We have been speculating how they got their name – could it have been in days of yore when the British seaman gave them that name? A derogatory view of their Portuguese counterparts? I wonder what Auntie Google has to say on the matter?

 

P, L, M & M