First things first. It took three of us (prime males, that is), but we’ve finally tamed Glenda. Our genius? A little blue pill and a little white pill, of Kiwi origins, known as Paihia Bombs. We administer judiciously. Poor petal thinks she is taking a sea-sickness preventative. We think it’s much more … quite a tonic! She is demure and sleeps alot. When she is awake she wants to cook and clean a lot. When she is bored she ties bowlines. A lot. She strokes and comforts ROM alot, and has taken to whispering in his ear. Something about fish, apparently.
Andrew AVHD, ha ha, unfortunately is still hyper. Then again, Smithy is devious. Hence, Smithy’s 3 part plan to exhaust Andrew. Part (A): chuck a 360 degree turn in Ressie during the night, so Andrew wakes up in the morning with his fishing line around the rudder. Throw him overboard to fix. Part (B): engage Andrew and Glenda in a fierce cooking competition, then sit back and, well, eat. Part (C): remind Andrew constantly that Animal Mike caught a 35 kg yellow fin. When Andrew finally hooks a big yellow fin (yes folks, its true, and we reckon it was in the 45 kg + category), conspire for a giant shark to attack it just as Andrew finally gets it up to the surface….. Photographic evidence available. All very dramatic, but we’ve just counted fingers and toes, and we got an even number.
We’re currently floating south about 400 nm off the Queensland coast in glorious sunlight, spinnaker set. We’ve had an amazing run of 640 nautical miles made good in 3 days, including one 24 hours in which we averaged 9.5 knots. The halcyon trade-wind days seem to be over, however, and we face variable and tricky winds as we claw our way south. Coffs Harbour is looking good as our point of entry into Australia, and we’re a good 3 days away from that unless we get lucky with winds. In the meantime, Smithy and the Captain need to endure yet another night of MasterChef finals.
love to all