On the seventh hour** of the seventh day of our transatlantic passage we crossed the midway point of the journey.
The day started as it always does, with the crew assembled on the foredeck to sing a rousing rendition of The Internationale' while waving red flags in solidarity with our leisure class comrades rioting in Greece for early retirement and lifetime pensions subsidized by Germany.
1127 nm ahead. 1127 nm behind. Don't you know that notion just crossed my mind.
Time to celebrate. As the magic moment approached, we prepared ourselves with a hearty lunch of grilled turmeric chicken sausages.
Although not aboard, Deb made her presence felt in the ensuing hours as the captain broke out the Midway Party supplies. Perhaps this post is best left unremarked until such time as pictures can be posted. My words cannot do justice to the ensuing images now seared into my brain for all time. Suffice it to say the photos include but are not limited to: Sharks, pirates, hats, rum, cheese chutney canapes, satellite phones, Leonardo DiCaprio, do-rags, beer and Captain Morgan poses. Photographs will be added to this and all passage posts during the Azore hiatus, assuming adequate intertube access. Best to wait.
|Captain Morgan joins the crew for the halfway celebration!|
[EDIT: Wait no longer - safely moored in Horta, Faial in Azores - your loyal blogger is taking this opportunity to upload a selection of photos - in no particular order, without comment or further ado]
Strictly speaking, this is only the midpoint of the first leg of our transatlantic passage - the long leg from Sint Maarten to the Azores. The crew is eagerly awaiting an even bigger and better party when we reach the true mid-point of the complete passage a few days hence. This calculation will be somewhat less precise, as we don't actually know where we are going. We can only hope to recognize the destination when we arrive.
Immediately following the end of our party, the wind died and the engine was started. According to the forecast, we may be motor sailing until we run out of fuel. After that, well, we will see.....
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* This is,of course, in reference to the International Holiday of Solidarity With Our Working Class Comrades and not intended as a distress call. I am not sure why anyone would think that blogger is an appropriate medium to call for help when their ship is going down. But just in case, do not call the Coast Guard. We are fine.
** If you don't start counting hours until 7:00 AM. Which we don't.