Thick fog embraced us for most of yesterday, the 4-8 had even lost sight of the bow for some time before dawn and this created a wonderfully surreal atmosphere and the senses were confused for a moment or it just took some time to realize that ears were more useful than eyes that morning.
Some miraculous force had taken away the horizons and we were in a dreamlike wonderland where, although all seemed calm around us, some distant noises sounded just like water falling; and maybe the edge of the world was somewhere near…
We heard the faint sound of a fog horn before we checked the radar to see a target in 8 nautical miles distance.
Although we had talked to motor tanker ‘Spartia’ via radio and were assured that we were showing on their radar and that they would keep a safe distance, the slow crescendo of the horn and then the slow increase of engine sounds was exciting and in the end we only saw a distinct long horizontal white line behind a magic curtain some thousand yards away – only the bow wave could be seen but no ship … huuhuuhuuhh
Heraclitus feels sober, somehow collected and continues to move along in an unusual fashion, almost without a sound in the lightest of winds on a very calm ocean. Cool wind and a hot sun and mist and fog at night – thank you for that….
We have sailed over a deep part of this ocean, the so called Sohm abyssal plain for the past week or so and are soon crossing the Newfoundland Ridge – land 300 miles to port side only…..Canada I love you.
Today is Rio’s birthday and we suddenly all turned into wrinkly, ugly, sexy grandmas and are drinking carajillo and sweet liquors on the poop deck and listen to Janis Joplin or play some ourselves and not today but soon too soon I will tell you about anaerobic man time, dolphins, fire holes and the fascinating resurrection of the mint.
The Fog has come in fast just now and I estimate a visibility of not more than a 100 yards. Break break to the music and listen for some horn before dancing on….The sun still there but leaving soon….