| 350 Nautical miles away from Las Palmas and 2650 nautical
miles to go as the day broke. The distance of our journey daunted on
me during the long night. It was a bad night. I could see it in everybody's
faces. The sea was rolling our little boat all night long. Even St.
Neptune looks as if he is not a "morning person" either. It was
a quiet day on board. Everybody minding their own business. The swell
kept us chasing after tins and cups around the deck the whole day. Anatoli
laughingly commented: "Chuck Norris" as my reflexes saved one of
our mangoes from going overboard. I tried to dry my washing on the deck
lines, but the sea kept pulling at my "scrub sails". I will have
the feel of salt hardened linen upon my skin tonight. The team were
quiet today. Constantine's blood glucose dropped to below 3 for the
first time, but he is still looking rather well. Best of the three today.
Goltis is just mumbling a "good" when I ask him how he feels and
Andriy just nods his head. I realize that the gaol of their fast is
to repent for their sins. And for this they will have to go through
some levels of pain. Andriy said that I should realize that they are
not going to take my medicine. The pain they go through is part of their
goal. My medicine is no good here.
I spent some time wrapping my arms
around the safety rails on the deck and let the heavy swell take me
as I hung over the side of the boat. My heart leaped as I felt the power
of the Atlantic take a hold of my feet.
|
