Humming along in the sou'westerlies

A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Fri 22 Jul 2011 15:35
39:24.18N
055:05.48W
 
The spinnaker at last had a chance to fly yesterday in an agreeable 12 knot breeze across the starboard quarter. The waves were lower, the sun was out and it was, in short, a cracking day for a sail. We raced along at about 6.5 knots under the chute for most of the afternoon and only struck the sail in time for a late supper, last night on a Mexican theme.
 
During the night, the sea temperature plummeted and the current turned against us, indicating a back eddy from colder northern climes. It was a good night for sleeping, though. We're back in the unquenchable blue depths of the Gulf Stream this morning, buzzing along at up to eight knots. There's a constant southwesterly trade wind at our backs, and Summer Song literally hums with pent up energy as she surges forward on each wave.
 
We're closing in on the half way point of this leg at 51 degrees west. We're planning to have a halfway party, although we're not sure yet what form this should take. There has been loose talk of ball gowns and high heels a la Cantare, but the girls said Chris and I would look silly, so we're still mulling sartorial options.
 
There's been no sight of other ships for nearly three days now, and we feel quite alone. It's strange to have the company of Radio 4's I'm Sorry, I Haven't a Clue on the ipod at night - strangest of all when the programme ends and I realise we're still 800 miles from anywhere in the north Atlantic. Maybe we should try producing our own nautically themed version of the show.
 
As I type, Chris is frantically winding in the fishing line. Thew lure is skimming along the surface and has attracted the attention of hundreds of shearwaters, which have appeared from nowhere as if it were a scene from Hitchcock's The Birds. They are squawking an wheeling over the lure while they take turns to have a go at it. We thought the birds might presage fish, but have had to retire from the hunt before we catch some feathered prey.