
2037 UTC | 29°21.447’N 018°57.214’W
Sailing
Dearest mother,
I hope my letter finds you well.
Since my last letter, much has occurred on board our dear Adrienne.
First off, on the diesel algae front there is not much to share, as we have held them off well and kept our engines running when we’ve had the need to.
A discussion has arisen on board, this time regarding what constitutes a sauce. Despite several days of detailed arguments, no definition has been found that can readily be agreed upon by all, even though many have been proposed. I shall not bore you with all the details regarding this matter (even though there is much to be said) but I will divulge that our crew’s psychologist, Simon, needed only to hear a few sentences of one such discussion before declaring that ”ah, fourteen days out here was what it took for us all to go insane.” Shortly thereafter, the topic of whether or not a hot dog is a sandwich was brought up.
I must say, though, that skipper Erik is an expert at managing these discussions, which can sometimes be heated, usually by readily agreeing with all sides.
It has been said Adrienne sails really well on a broad reach, but alas, I may never know as virtually every mile we’ve sailed has been at an apparent wind angle of less than fifty degrees, and skipper Erik predicts we are set to continue to do so for the last stretch of our our journey.
We now have only eighty miles until we encounter land, and fewer than two hundred to our destination.
I look forward to seeing you upon returning home.
Apprentice Anton
View more passage logs


The gobbledygook of sailors
We sailors can come across as a cryptic bunch. Similar to almost all niche endeavors, it boils down to efficiency, safety and tradition. There are so many "ropes" and so much gear on a sailboat, that trying to identify them by descriptive terms just wouldn’t cut it. We’re in one of the best learning environments available to offshore sailors, and mistakes are a part of the process.


Dive on in
Life aboard Adrienne is hot and sticky. It was hilarious how fast we all started moving once we heard we might go for a swim in the ocean. With our captain’s blessing, we started jumping in, hooting and hollering, grinning like children on a carnival ride. It was simple and delightful and also mind-boggling to be bobbing and washing in the great ocean under a clear sky with nothing around but our floating home and each other. But the deeper cleaning of this ocean plunge will certainly linger for days.


Death on the high seas
I’m not going to lie - I really miss my dog. As we’re just now approaching Cap Verde (two thirds of the way) I can’t help but think of all the wonderful things that happen on a trip like this; strangers become friends, terror turns into confidence, and ignorance into knowledge. It’s not for everyone. But if you do decide to cross some of most isolated spaces on the planet in a small boat, you’re definitely in for a mighty interesting ride. And next time I’ll bring my dog with me. 😊
