Gift Horses

I woke to the sound of the sea rushing past Carina and rain beating on the vinyl window of the companionway cover. Carina was bucking and twisting like a filly which only made the bunk seem more cozy in my groggy fatigued state. Still, I stood up and lifted the flap and called out into the warm torrent "Do you need help?". A firm "No" came from the dark shiny figure whose face I could just see by the glowing red light of the binnacle compass.
"Go back to bed, you still have a half an hour to sleep".
"Ok, but what is happening? Are you hand steering?"
"Yes. I thought the wind was dying, so I put out more genoa. And then this squall struck!"

I climbed back into the warm dry off-watch bunk and fell back asleep to the sound of the genoa beginning to flog and the furling line being cranked...and the sea murmuring-by as Carina settled into a pleasant roll as she surfed the waves at a more subdued pace.

After almost three days of fast sailing, it's easy to think that 6 knots is our right, but it is better not to question the wind gods' gifts during the blackest of stormy nights.

At 7/30/2016 and 19:03 UTC (GMT) our position was: 04°34.53'N / 138°07.31'E.
We were traveling 138T degrees true at 4.2 knots.



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