24 hours out of Lanzarote and we have travelled 170 nautical miles.  Currently the wind is  about 18kts and we are making around 8,  short wavelength so we have a  roly poly sea.   Sailing on genoa and aft main for all you boatie readers.

 

No major puking incidents; but the various potions we are taking to fend off seasickness (mostly stugeron anti-histamine) do tend to make people drowsy.  The nodding heads remind me of boring summer afternoons in the Chancery Division - the rule used to be that if the judge nods off, everyone else can too.   My personal drug of choice is scopolamine in the form of a small transdermal patch beneath the ear.   It looks like a seal of identity for some sinister cult; or maybe a sticking plaster to hide vampire teeth marks.

 

Mark took down our ensign, and folded it up with great reverence, as befits one who makes his living from sailing boats.  The previous job he did was getting some diesel overspill out of the bilges.  We were all clamouring to do that but he lucked in.

 

 

 

 

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Teresa is on lunch today.  Here is her impressive spread laid out in the galley, on our posh Corian work surface.

 

 

 

 

 

The loaf was made in the ship’s breadmaker this morning.  Last night we had chicken and ginger stew with pumpkin and baked potato.  Tonight it is one of Mr Cooper’s excellent fish pies – currently defrosting in the unlit oven on the left.    We know it is a fish pie because it has the outline of a fish on the top.

 

I am off to check the fruit and veg in various hatches and fridges to make sure that there are no nasties.    Pip pip from the Atlantic Ocean on a sunny day south of the Canaries