I've just gained an entirely new understanding of the word "infinity." It's a precious knowledge that only a night at sea can provide. The stars are an infinite collection of worlds that overlap and shine down through the nebula. I've never seen such stars. But the real magic of tonight drifts past us, below us. The water is smooth as the surface of a full, untouched drinking glass. We speculated with confusion as to why the stars were only reflected in the glow of the stern light and quickly grabbed our strongest flashlight. As Herby swept the light over the black water, incomprehensible numbers of creatures responded by glowing as far down as the spotlight could penetrate. He said it was like illuminating a universe. I have never seen beauty that evoked so much wonder. We painted the water with billions of tiny glowing specks as we swept the light across. Why do they respond in such a way? What are they? In our sweeping, we found graceful pink jellies trailing long flowing tendrils. Were these baby jellies? In the end it didn't matter. What mattered was the beauty; the glowing lives floating past us as infinite as the stars. And no one to see them but us.
Day 11 Azores
There are ten or so birds all around us and the clouds look like mountains against the orange strip of sunset resting on the ocean. I want so badly to know about these birds. How did they get 800 miles from the nearest point of land and how are they going to get back? They aren't landing on the boat to rest. This really amazes and perplexes me. Still, the hint of land life that they provide is a comfort. The sea is back to its quiet, infinite ripples. The sight brought with it a peace that I wasn't expecting. What was once frustrating is now a welcome beauty. We slept in the Vberth last night with the stars visible through the open hatch and it was the best sleep I've had in many nights. A few days of this may prolong our trip, but it has renewed a vitality that had been trapped, hiding away from those seemingly endless angry waves.
Day 10 Azores
Today was our first slow day. It was actually a nice break from the pitching and sloshing that has been the trip so far. Highlights are few and far between, but one would be catching another fish of the same variety as the first time. It tasted amazing and I will remember it fondly despite the violent illness that followed that night.
Each morning we wake up and send our coordinates to David and Mary on "Adventurous" so that they can send us weather updates. It is a comfort to know that they are only 3 days ahead of us on the same ocean. Even though we can't see anything or anyone past the vast expanse of blue, we don't feel completely alone.
It's been a very different experience on this leg of the journey. We are more relaxed about watches because there is no one remotely close to us and we are able to sleep in the quarter birth since It's just the two of us. Meals are eaten whenever we feel hungry, and there have only been 3 or 4 sail changes the entire trip. Dill went up today for the first time and it was a refreshing change just to have something to do. I'm definitely not exercising enough. I can feel it when I become winded simply standing by the stove to cook chicken. I'll have to fix that.
Day 3 Azores
We're averaging more than 100 miles a day so far. On the first leg, we didn't even do that once. Herby's very excited and absolutely loves it out here. I'm excited to get to the Azores. Sailing is fun and rewarding, but I don't have the same intense passion that he does. I think it will feel really good to say that this is something I've done. Sometimes I look out at the sunlight draping itself over the endless waves and wonder how in the world I ended up here in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with one other person in a 45 foot sailboat. It happens pretty often actually; this out-of-body experience of disbelief and deep questioning. There are two things I'm certain of though: 1, I never would have done this if I hadn't married Herby. And 2, I'm so glad I married Herby.
Day 1 Azores
It's just the two of us now. We left Bermuda at around 5pm and are making good time so far. Everything is more relaxed because we don't need to prove anything to anyone but ourselves, and we know we can do it. Everything is familiar and comfortable out on the Ocean again. No jitters this time. It feels right to be crossing.
