Lady Ann - Land ho!

This is our last night out on the big open ocean. We spend it with mixed feelings: eager to step ashore, have a good shower and a sumptious meaty meal. But simultaneously realising we are about to end a very special
trip, perhaps one that will turn out to be a 'once in a lifetime' for some of us. For others it might be the final self confidence step to serious deep blue water cruising, or - as in Ronalds case - a final push into a carreer as a professional sail maker.  So we will treasure one more watch under the starry sky, running out of wishes because of all the shooting stars, one more rising of a very tiny little horizontal moonsickle, a couple of more downpoors under passing squalls, some more sweaty moments in our full foul weather slops, perhaps some last solitairy contemplations on the meaning of life in general and more specifically on carreers, fast cars and loose women
(Davide: 'Yes please, many of those, never mind the fast cars and carreers').
And in a couple of hours, one more glorious sunrise and a daily run across Lady Ann's decks to harvest the mornings' yield of stranded flying fish. (Untill very recently, it would always be Thomas doing this
round, scooping the fish up and stuffing them into his mouth, to return to the cockpit with a tail or two sticking out between his lips.) And then, one more coffee session for breakfast: our Pixie Nespresso machine has made one fatal jump to freedom from the countertop. After being switched on it gave off a very nasty smell of singed plastic and burnt fuses. Ingo and Edo spent three hours desperately trying to open the machine and finally, once opened diagnosed the patient as being beyond repair and redemption. Being the true sailors we are, we are masters of improvisation: ever since we are opening up the Nespresso cups to shake out the coffee into a pan of boiling water, to make coffee the Arab way). Perhaps, if we are lucky, we will not only catch a fish later today but also actually manage to bring it in for a last tuna steak or a swordfish curry for lunch. By that time we should have sighted land, hopefully St. Lucia. Frank or Fritze might still prepare one last oven baked bread or perhaps even a cake of some sort. (They really bonded and are trying to make themselves usefull, but still they must feel like utter failures since neither of them managed to import the fleet report data into MaxSea.) And for those hard learners, Maria can still try the rest of the day to teach them to actually steer a more or less straight line, rather then blaming the waves, the wind, the sun, the rain, and what have you for the widely varying course sailed. Sundowners with just one last pack of salty Tucs or tasteless Pistacchio nuts, we will most likely have when rounding the northern cape of St. Lucia.  Once across the finish line we will be confronted with the final ranking
of Lady Ann in the general fleet and in our 'invitation cruising' class. For those who had expected Lady Ann to perform better, here is Lady Ann's priority list (from high to low): safety, looks, comfort, fun, and ... okay .... speed!