Another Day in the Middle of Nowhere

Distance: 100/2008 Day: 17

The kids have resorted to making paper fortune tellers. Those are the little hand-folded things that open and close and you pick colors or words and then have your fortune told. It's about as intellectually stimulating as a Magic 8 Ball and provides some clue as to how flippin' bored we are getting. DrC, of course, is engaged in upgrading the boat. In this case, he installed new backing plates for the stern cleats. These will come in handy if we ever find enough wind that our drogue becomes necessary. The more likely use case is to strengthen those cleats for all the stern anchoring we will no doubt be required to do in the islands.

If we ever get there.

We've run out of everything fresh except onions, cabbage, oranges, apples, and limons. There are some frozen meats and vegies left, but I am parceling them out like little bits of gold. I am now at the phase where I am trying to think of clever ways to make pasta different and exciting. Homemade bread is also now a substantial component of the menu. For example, lunch today is a loaf of Italian bread fresh out of the oven served with olive oil, sun dried tomatoes, anchovies, walnuts, balsamic vinegar and grated cheese. If everyone is very well behaved, I may be talked into finding three apples which I will slice thinly and serve on a silver platter with much ceremony.

Now fear not that the Conger clan will starve. Even were we stuck out here for another month, we wouldn't starve. The provisioning lockers are chock o'block full of food. It's just that the food is all dried, canned, or preserved. Jaime won't shut up about a green salad. Mera wants ice cream. Aeron wants soda pop? I'm raising that one wrong. DrC wants gazpacho soup and ceviche. I've pointed out to him that we are simply awash in limons just waiting for him to catch a damn fish. He's not happy with that one. I want tacos on the street complete with the sliced cucumbers, marinated onion/carrots, and five kinds of salsa. And the cold cold beer.

Actually, the beer is an interesting issue. We haven't been drinking since we left San Jose del Cabo. In fact, in 17 days, DrC and I have split two beers, and DrC drank most of the second last night since it didn't taste good to me. There isn't much sacrifice in this. The heat and movement combined with dehydration make any diuretic sound completely unappealing. We haven't had coffee or caffinated tea either. Our celebratory Fresca on the equator crossing made everyone slightly sick from the sugar rush. Arguably, a crossing is a good way to break some bad eating and drinking habits.

PPJ Note #11: PERSONAL WATER BOTTLES. Dehydration is a serious problem out here. Make sure everyone on board has a wide mouthed plastic bottle with a lid which can be carried everywhere. Keep it handy and full of water at all times. We are using PowerAid bottles. They have fantastic lids which only release beverage when you suck on them. You want the bottles to be slightly wide-mouthed so you can get a bottle brush inside and clean them periodically. Our bottles appear to be well nigh indestructible which is a good property in a water bottle as they get thrown, tossed, and ejected from one part of the boat to another on a routine basis.

The cat went crazy this morning. She weighs about half what she did when she arrived. Most of this is due no doubt to hair loss. She's coming back into her kitten, un-slothful self now. When she sleeps, she sleeps. When she is awake, she tears around the boat like her tail is on fire. This morning she did laps in the salon until I got up and yelled at her. In all fairness, she was using my left shoulder blade as a launching pad. I had good reason.

~ Toast
May 4, 18:00 UTC