Almost one and a half thousand miles sailed. Two and a half thousand left. The moon has gone from a Cheshire Cat smile to a large white blob, with either a man or a rabbit in it depending on which cultural legend one follows.
The Indian Ocean is living up to it’s reputation. Three separate sets of swells are converging and making things very lumpy. Bob lurches and rolls like a drunken man in unpredictable ways, knocking the wind from the sails and re-filling them with a bang on a regular basis. It is easy to understand why sailors are traditionally superstitious; it seems like all is calm and well until one of us dares to mention that perhaps the sea state is improving. Then, we immediately get picked up and tossed somewhere, and the sounds from the deck of banging sails and lines and the shaking of the rigging reproach our sentiments smartly.
The antipodean point to Bermuda is Perth in Western Australia. That is, the point that is on exactly the opposite side of the planet. If you could dig a hole straight through the center of the Earth from Bermuda and hop through it that’s where you’d pop out.
We didn’t visit Perth but we did, as you know, visit Bali, which is directly north of Perth and on the same line of longitude. In fact, our anchorage, at longitude 115 15 E was exactly 180 degrees from Devonshire parish, Bermuda. Finally, after two years and ten months, we have reached the other side of the world, and every mile sailed will take Bob one mile closer to home rather than one mile further from it. It’s a nice feeling. Somehow it feels like we’re sailing down-hill, and that Bob knows she’s going home.
Two days ago we left the Pacific behind us and entered the Arafura Sea, which leads into the Indian Ocean a few hundred miles further West. The Pacific has been very special for me in particular as it was the lure of that huge, wild ocean that provided the impetus for this whole voyage. We have seen some incredible places,
Our visitor the following night was not a Booby this time but a petrel, which is much smaller and less intimidating than a Booby. Thus, I was able to adopt a new tactic with this one. It insisted on perching on the outboard engine, with its bum pointed inwards into the cockpit. Scaring it away was to no avail.
Day 9 and all is well on Bob. It’s been long enough now that the days have rolled together, and I had to go and have a look at the ship’s log to figure out how many days we’d been at sea. Most of those days recently have been grey and drizzly, but we’re happy with that because the alternative wouldn’t have been much fun at all. Our decision to stay well South appears to have paid off – just 100 miles to our North yesterday was an area of intense thunder storms with light winds that had organised themselves into a well-defined cyclonic motion. The Coral Sea, where we are now, is the birthplace of South Pacific cyclones. We’re here at the wrong time of year (or the right time of year depending on how you look at it!) and the sea temperatures are too low for cyclone development but if that hadn’t been the case we might have just witnessed the formation of one of those infamous beasts.