Monday morning in the Atlantic, not as busy like Leicester Square but we did

have some company last night - a big tanker which is the first boat we have

seen for several days.  We passed like ships in the night.  And it  was the real

night - full cloud cover, no moon, no horizon, blackout. 

 

How helpful, then, that our own boat chose that moment to demonstrate the truth that in a long downwind

passage the rig chafes here and there and eventually something lets go.  In

this case it was the halyard holding up the headsail which parted.  The sail slid

gently into the sea.    Getting it out was a bit of a job, but the crew

worked as one seamless unit and the headsail is now wrapped up on the

foredeck, awaiting a new halyard, which we have.   

 

In the meantime we have hoisted the forward mainsail - it is nice to have a spare mast innit?; two masts are

better than one.    Join the schooner fan club.

 

We have now gone onto port gybe, so there is at last

some south in our heading.    You may remember from a previous post  that in this arrangement  it is Mr Cooper who gets a good kip and

the two Bens and Gregor who start sliding out of bed – I have tested this proposition and find it to be true;  it is very roly poly indeed this afternoon, but this detail did not stop us eating a stonkingly good pasta lunch prepared by Teresa.

 

Bad things never happen singly, and within a few minutes of losing the

headsail the aft mainsail went pear-shaped when the outhaul (the bit of rope

that holds the back of the sail to the boom) broke.  It got fixed after

sunrise.  We will get to the headsail later.

 

 

 

Early training as a gun dog was a great help in later life.  Note the special sunbeam.

 

 

Godfather and godson in perfect harmony

 

And in case you were wondering what the third disaster was (there are always

three aren't there?) , one of our number stood on a coffee mug and broke the

handle.  Of the three, this is the only one that is not remediable.,

 

By some point yesterday we had covered 1,000 nautical miles.

 

And later today we move our clocks back one hour  to Rio de Janeiro time (GMT –2).  As JJ Cale and Eric  will have said

 

Livin’ on Rio time

Livin’ on Rio time

Gonna set my watch right to it

‘cos I know that I’ve been through it

Livin’ on Rio time

 

Love to all reading this on dry land, from the crew of Ocean Science -  a schooner with two mainsails flying as the afternoon sun breaks through at 32 degrees West, course 250.