While the day before yesterday was already
rather uneventful, making it hard for me to come up with an original blog
entry, the day yesterday was
even more uneventful.
There is, to be frank, nothing at all that I could possibly write about (Dieter
suggested that I get into the psychological effects this crossing has had on us
or any philosophical insights about the meaning of life that might have come to
us in the last weeks – but I think I’ll rather leave it to him to write about
these things in his memoirs). This
is not even meant in a negative way. Quite the opposite, we all greatly enjoyed
the last day of our normal, unexciting boat routine before we would eventually
have to (not only mentally but also physically) get started with our
preparations for the arrival in St Lucia: filling in customs and arrivals sheets,
cleaning some equipment, putting up our flags again, re-inflating our fenders
etc. By now, a strong sense of melancholy cannot be overseen on the boat. Time
and again you would hear someone note sombrely that it will soon be the “
last time” that we
… witness the sunset, have dinner, see the bright night sky, put
out the fishing lure, pick up unlucky flying fish from the foredeck in the
morning, wake up to the moaning/squeaking/cracking/creaking symphony of the
Thula etc.
on the Atlantic Ocean.
As I am writing this down, we are only 120
more miles from St Lucia. By the evening, we should be able to see land again…
All the best
Jakob