It’s been days now that we’ve been slowly motorsailing at a walking pace. We’re lucky in that the weather is beautiful — clear, calm, not too hot — but unlucky in that this is a sailboat and we could be going at least twice as fast with a nice breeze. And for free. But it is what it is. The sea is glassy calm and the barest of breeze is dead ahead. We keep our poor torn jib up because we delude ourselves that it’s giving us lift but in truth it probably isn’t.
Yesterday a squall passed us by. We could see it, we could track it on radar, and we even got a bit of a wind shift as it rolled behind us. We actually hoped it would hit us so we could sail some and turn the engine off, and even raised the mainsail in anticipation. But after about 15 minutes we could see it wasn’t doing anything for us so we furled it again.
So day after day we sleep, read, eat, repeat. I finished “The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry,” read “Bill Bryson’s African Diary,” and “Silver Linings Playbook.” Tuesday it was so calm we fired up the grill and had dogs and beans, a day late for Monday Beans.
Today we siphoned three jerry cans of fuel into the tank. I’m concerned about fuel; Jack is worried about water. We’re in water conservation mode, and seriously, 80 gallons of water for two people will last weeks. Normally our toilets flush with fresh water so we’re using a bucket of seawater instead and only use the fresh water for drinking, cooking and washing up, which sadly doesn’t include a shower. As I said, it’s lucky it’s not hot so we’re not sweaty, but still, I think I’ll change my t-shirt today.