Here we are, in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of our adventure. During the last days in the doldrums, we were under engine and had a little pause from racing. Although we haven’t been motoring the whole time, it feels good that the sails are now back up again for good.
Even though there is so a lot of interesting subjects to write about the life on board, from food to urine colour charts and the showers on deck, sail trim and sail changes, I’d like to try the impossible and describe what being at sea feels like. It was only about two days ago that it hit me. I’m sailing in the doldrums. I’ve read so many books about sailing and so many stories of sailors describing their time in the doldrums and now I suddenly have my own. We are living and creating our own stories of crossing an ocean. The colour of the sea changes while we make our way south. From a grey(ish) blue to a deep, bright blue. The Inuit supposedly have a whole variety of words for white, we definitely don’t have enough for blue. Every day, every moment the sea looks different while the sight of the horizon doesn’t change. It’s a vastness that for me is freedom and liberty in itself.
Someone once told me that there is a sunrise and a sunset every day, and that it’s you who decides if you want to watch it. You can never watch too many sunrises or sunsets and you never get tired of watching the sea. At least I don’t. No matter what the conditions are or how tired I am, I just can’t help myself but smile when I climb up the companionway, breath in the salty air and see the endless blue surrounding us. One of the boats is collecting ideas for advice, we’d give to the next crew for Leg 2. My advice: watch, breath, don’t miss out on the beauty of being at sea.