About 05:30 the desultory sun began to poke its golden head up through the cloud bank to the east. Immediately, the air began to take on that hot, visceral, quality that makes you fancy you are moving through invisible glutinous gelatin and breathing Swedish sauna fog. The nights have been bearable out here on the water, with that dreamy, warm tropical feeling in the velvet dark of the no moon, star spangled sky, and just enough breeze to be comfortable sitting in the cockpit, though not enough wind to fill the sails. The faithful 100 hp motor drones it’s monotonous song in the belly of the boat, it’s boring tune ( meant both ways) reverberating through every bit of wood and fibreglass and our hollow bones and benumbed brains. The sails sit tight, close hauled in the artificial wind generated by our forward motion. The daytime is a trial filled with unrelenting, unmerciful, monstrous heat. Even on the rare occasion it rains, the big fat tropical drops are warm to the touch. The rain brings no relief, only a thicker, wetter, attribute to the relentless heat. The water temperature has hit a record 90 degrees, and we wonder why we are so miserably hot. At 16:00 we finished motoring up the ugly mangrove lined river and with the excellent help of the marina guys took a spot med moored style on the “dock”. Now we are in Cabedelo. Happy Fat Tuesday! Captain grilled chicken then hosted warc partners for after sundowners.
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