Today I walked to the bow of the boat and looked forward. Forward was East. The ocean stretched out in front of us like an infinite blue blanket being shaken over a bed: billowing and settling into place, and then billowing again. And the reality set in that we weren't going to stop until we got to the other side. That was a new feeling. I let it rise from my stomach to my head to make peace with it. And I looked back at our beautiful boat with all of her red sails pulled taught, and Frank and Herby were sitting in the cockpit tossing peanut shells over the side, and I knew that we could do it and that we would be fine.
I have first watch tonight. There is silent lightening. It's not menacing lightening. We're going almost 6 knots with the trisail and there are the lights of another boat far off the starboard bow. I don't feel alone.
