The wind was slowly dying as the afternoon wore on, when we got hailed on the radio by Atea. They were passing some three miles to our starboard, on their way from Costa Rica to Rikitea. We turned off the solar for a few minutes (the controllers interfere with the radio) and had a nice chat.
As the wind continued to drop, we went forward to put up the spinnaker. But as we dropped the rest of the sails we decided it was a nice time for a swim. Captain came out to stand on the bimini top and watch us jump over the side into the slightly-colder-than-expected water.
What do you call two sailboats in the same place? A race. We got the spinnaker up, but wind was so light that even it only added a knot or two to the current. So we watched Atea disappear into the distance, making eight knots in four knots of breeze. From which we infer that they still have plenty of diesel. Meanwhile we refilled our tank from the last of our Jerry cans. No more motor sailing for us; we’ll save that for filling the batteries and emergencies. Light wind now means floating, which means more swimming for Jazz in the world’s biggest and best swimming pool. Jazz considers these swim sessions the height of life’s perfection at the present moment, pure joy. Andrew physically will enter the water. Captain watches from the bimini top very confused.
Light wind (usually) means flat water, so we were able to do some cleaning and laundry. Flat water also makes a happy cat. He finally requested, and received, water from the bathroom sink, normally one of his favorite things. And he followed us up onto the deck to watch a gorgeous sunset around the edges of the lightly-filled sail.
The wind came and went through the evening and into the morning, but it remained spinnaker weather. We’re now headed west at about six knots, super comfortable, setting our heading mostly to ensure we’re both awake when we cross the equator.
2686 miles left on the rhumb line.