Before pulling in the sea anchor this morning, we spent a good part of the last 24 hours slowly drifting with the wind and waves in a north-easterly direction. In the wee hours of the night, things let up and we were free from our weather shackles for the time being. As of now we’re about 1,100 nautical miles from Miami, and our longitude has us overlapping the eastern-most Caribbean island… I’ll take any milestone I can.
I read somewhere that mercury pools in the wrecks of Spanish galleons all around the Caribbean, left from the processing of gold and silver from the New World. [Article about a recent haul of pirate booty of immense value.] Right now the sun is high, mostly toward starboard… the water is so smooth and still it looks like a vast undulating plain of quicksilver. Not even a ripple.
To the right off of port the minute change in angle of the sun makes the water pure white, with the apex of each soft undulation refracting the sun into my eyes as black dots of rain – and instantly invisible. Rowing is hot, and continues to be extraordinary.