Thursday 1st May  19.36.00 N  23.13.00W  12.00utc

 

Rabbits, is it the first of the month. May 2008

 

A dark evening with little moon until very late, sunrise around six to a sky of soft cloud. Motored through the darkness, the log from Ipswich passed four thousand miles in the small hours. the endless drone of the splendid little Perkins had topped the battery banks full to busting. Such a dark evening we ran the radar on 24 mile but not a sausage on the screen. Map screens set on 600 mile range, how scary is that.

 

When both awake around nine the wind had moved to a northerly, six, seven knots. Running 220 we put everything out. What a picture, all the gib, all the main, both a little baggy and the cutter tight to aerofoil them together. Back stay on starboard and the spinaker pole still rigged. Bagged close on wind speed, turned the generator on and celebrated with a pot noodle, they do taste so much better boiled with the electric kettle. Transfered some fuel to leave the running tank full, checked the oil and water and tightened down the stuffer grease.

 

Considered trying the hankies for another knot but probably a little tide helping so settled for a good photo and a lie down for some sleep in the morning silence of the wind.

 

The tides have been very confusing, the permanent Canaries current has not shown for us and often with the wind down has appeared against us for half of the days.

 

With the wind and cloud has come a respite from the heat, a mere 27 degrees of water temperature. Started calculations on speed to arrival at Mindelo, unlikely to be able to arrive short of darkness tomorow so almost able to slow down for a Saturday morning entry to the marina.

 

Golly, slow down, thats not proper motorboating. Roy back in Blighty relaying weather from his broadband with a smart summary of actions. Navtex not recieved since Canaries so must be no ground base for out here.

 

Is it time for lunch. Golly we have moved the map screen down to 300 mile range, must be getting close.

 

Sail yacht Hollinsclough bobbing in the big blue ocean of the mid Atlantic.