Dear readers,
It's a desert. At sea. The sea. Little life, scorching heat, thirsty conditions. No wind. Or little. It will sometimes blow in the desert, but the iconic image of a desert is a handkerchief on your head, heat, sweat, thirst, no wind and almost certain death. I can already see the carcass of a cattle lying there.
We have been motoring here for 500 miles. In those hot conditions. What a punishment to be on a sailboat. Occasionally with some help from the wind, but far too little. Still, we are not very behind schedule and it seems like we can manage with the amount of fuel. Maybe tight. Yet. The ultimate test. Everything else seems noisy but functions excellently.
Currently reading my umpteenth book. To break the routine and boredom. Donna Tart, the hidden history. What a book! Easy to read and full of literary Greek things that I didn't know anything about. While it is a crime novel about a group of students. Very well written. Every now and then I come across a slightly too literal translation, but whatever. Good book.
In the cabin the heat is almost unbearable. The cockpit is the place.
Not many people will do that. Reading a book in the desert. With a handkerchief on your head, heat, sweat….
Perhaps the comparison is somewhat flawed.
Pancakes for lunch. Thai full soup for dinner.
Occasionally a flying fish. And a freighter.
Greetings Mark and Ton.
