Bang. Bang bang. Bang bang bang.

As predicted, we managed to sail all day yesterday. It was reasonably comfortable, despite being upwind — picture holding on with one hand but not always two. So we managed to do some things: Jazz cut Andrew’s hair (without cutting Andrew) and made guacamole, and Andrew fried some chicken for dinner. And we got news that some friends up ahead had broken their boom, though they’re in the downwind section so we still won’t catch them.

But our wind was gradually shifting from south to west, and at about six we decided we couldn’t get away with sailing any more without giving up ground. So we dropped the sails and turned directly into the wind, which brings us to a taiku for Jazz’s night shift:

Bang bang. Creak bang bang.
I should have worn a sports bra.
Bathroom door slams shut.
Wave hits, water sparkles, bang,
Bioluminescent wake.

It’s like being the oldest person at a punk concert, with too many pairs of earplugs in to really enjoy the music, and you can’t leave because you’re the token adult on chaperone duty, but why isn’t the beat regular this isn’t even music I want to go home or at least can we stand further from the speakers because I can feel the bass vibrating my spleen.

Somehow through all this, Jazz managed to get the last of the laundry from Panama put away, and clean the boat, so Andrew woke to an unrecognizably tidy house.

By a couple of hours into Andrew’s morning shift the wind had shifted south enough to put the sails back up. So now we’re sailing almost due west, not much more comfortable but at least the engine is off. We got the watermaker running, put new zip ties on the wire shelves, and hunkered down inside where the waves breaking over the bow can’t splash us.

3447 miles to go.

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