Each morning before sunrise I see Orion reclining comfortably along the horizon to the east, seemingly bemused at our progress over the ocean. Then as the sliver of moon rises before the sun, Orion gradually gets up and goes off to do whatever it is constellations do all day, rather Bachanalian, I suspect. Here on the surface of our planet, I am just happy to see some speeds above 5 knots after yesterday’s bashing.
With a dissipating low off Oregon to our right, and a big advancing high to our left, we are between the cogs of two giant rotating gears of waves and wind. The low circulates counter clockwise giving us a north wind, and the high rotates clockwise giving us a north wind, resulting in an all day experience of 25-30 knots on the nose, with the white capped green lipped ten footers gnashing us in the face. Slowly up the wave with all sky in the windows, then pitch down with a pounding boom and spray over the pilothouse and nothing but the blue trough in our view. Repeat one thousand times and it’s time for lunch. That was yesterday. Maybe today will be better, because we want to arrive for Kathleen’s birthday on the 15th.
Regards to all. Laysan and crew are fine. Another few days and we will enter the Straits of Juan de Fuca,
43 40 N
133 58 W
486 miles to go