End of the Vomit Comet.
Saturday, and I am slightly surprised that I have survived this long. Adventure is rocking back and forth as per normal, the wind is at around 25 knots and the sea remains choppy. The novelty for me is that I am sitting at the saloon table writing said Blog, which prior to this would have been impossible due to the state of my stomach
At the last count, I had “chundered” 30 times, a number the Skipper
insists that one has to keep count of, and clearly amuses the remainder of my
watch (Blue) and ultimately the rest of the crew. Anyway, at this point, despite
having pleaded with the Skipper & Windy on at least one occasion to be let
off at To say the weather is awfully clement right now would be a lie, but for Blue Watch it is certainly fun. Lunch is just about finished and we will shortly head up on deck to resume our jiving, tacking and putting the storm sails up; bound to interesting… Peter and Dave are hoping for another dunking in the fore-pit, when the helm picks course through “big” waves, meanwhile Linda will continue to hang on resolutely to the sheet under her control. Byrne has gone (I am told) from being somewhat nervous to emitting little shrieks of pleasure whenever Windy announces its about to get a little sporty and all this time our Watchleader Anne keeps a firm eye and hand on our drills. And as for I as long as my SealSkinz socks continue to fight the rising tide in my boots and I remember Army left from right, then I think its going to be a bit of a giggle. The mood throughout the crew is remarkably upbeat and it looks like the
actual expedition to
Mike Curtis-Rouse |