DAY 9

February 18, Day 9 | What Does the Deep Sea Say?

So many questions; so many answers—some of us take the time to listen, remaining disconnected from the outside world. Captain Erik set a course for the center of a big high-pressure system the other day for a swim. We sailed to the calm, water skier’s paradise. As we were in the eye of the high, we witnessed clouds and squalls all around us, moving in different directions.

How deep is it where we are swimming, in the absolute center of the Atlantic Ocean? Does the chart mean 2,000 meters? 2,000 fathoms? It’s deep, really deep.

As almost everyone jumped in and climbed out, a few of us stayed in for the duration, opening our eyes underwater; sometimes doing the shark-watch 360 spin, otherwise enjoying the sights of humans plunging in beside Adrienne, trails of air bubbles rising back to the surface, and climbing back aboard with ear-to-ear smiles. That night, “MacGyver” said it was the best day of his life.

Our weather briefing that night indicated projections of 4-5 meter swells resulting from our irritable next-door neighbor to the north, the Big Low. This system was pumping out swells of over 11 meters! These are not the ideal conditions for making pancakes or for sleeping off-watch.

After our initial 3-4 days of bashing upwind, we had incredible sailing on a beam reach for several days, at consistent wind speeds of 12-22 knots. We’ve been blessed by bright moonlight, on both ends of the full moon, to watch the 3-5 meter swells dance around Adrienne, sea spray glowing in the moonlight. Before moonrise, we witness the darkest night skies possible. We receive nice moontans, as the moon illuminates our smiles and the monstrous, moving mountains of water that pass us by over and over again.

Unbelievable—is that swell four meters or five? Does it matter? We appreciate the 11-12 second periods between the giant, friendly swells, constantly aware of our privilege that they are not breaking waves with shorter periods, especially since they are generally broadside, or at best, off our stern quarter.

How far could one of these flying fish fly, if determined to do so? Last night at sunset, one must have flown nearly the distance of a soccer pitch!

The ocean speaks, and we listen. Adrienne is charging, loving the swells, and guarding her crew.

Mahalo,
Ryan, ADRIENNE crew