Thursday 24 August 2023, 15:30

The Adventures of Tin Man
Andy Topp & Steve Arnold
Thu 24 Aug 2023 14:34
32:55.34N
013:7.24W
 
what three words - muesli.publishing.delaying
 
It has been a relatively uneventful 24 hours since Sam's previous update. My bread, despite the predictions, actually turned out ok if not slightly pale. This morning i made rolls for the hot dogs we had for lunch but they turned out a little bit dense. Thankfully there are people on board who can make good bread so I'll try to hone my skills over the next few months before the transatlantic. We have also received a bread recipe from Sam's son, Seb, who is himself a keen baker, so we will be trying that out soon.
 
Last night I was on the 2am to 6am shift. It was pretty grim - we are much further south now which means the day v night ratio is evening out. Further north this graveyard shift had the singular benefit of a stunning sunrise to finish it off before grabbing some sleep but now we don't get that - the sun rising sometime around 7-7:30am. There was very little chat between Will and I as we struggled to stay awake. We are now pretty out of all the main shipping lanes and are sandwiched between the coast of Africa traffic heading out the med, some fifty miles to the east, and other traffic to the west heading down to the Canaries from further north. During those night shifts you get plenty of time to reflect and two things struck me last night - one how dark it is. The moon is setting relatively early after sunset which leaves the majority of the night really dark with just the Milky Way to break up the black. We are now around 200 miles from Africa (Morocco) just south of Casablanca, but the distance also means there is no light polution.
 
The second thing was that we are just constantly moving save for a couple of quick stops in Spain and Portugal. We are now 1,310 miles into the journey and have travelled from the south coast of the UK to the Western Sahara in terms of longitude change. If we had made this journey on land we would have seen considerable changes in both landscape and architecture but whenever I look up out of the boat I see the same constant view; endless, deep blue, rolling sea. Save for a marked improvement in weather compared to the UK, it's easy to forget where you are when you're on these long passages. This makes it sound like a view that is boring but to me it is anything but - it is really liberating to be so isolated and the view, as constant and unchanging as it is, never stops being anything but beautiful.
 
In other news, we have had a couple of surprise hitch hikers over the last two days - both of them mini squids which have been found slowly sauteeing on the front deck presumably having been washed over by rogue waves. It must have come as quite a shock to be riding the wave only to find yourself baking in the sunshine on a boat. Needless to say, neither proved to be very resilient in the inhospitable environment they found themselves.
 
320 miles to go!