[password] brucelaura
[position] 7 27S 21 01W
[status] Thursday, February 13, 9:00 AM
Day 7, Stowaways and Deaths on Board.
At each port we visited in South Africa, we were required to fill out a form that asked how many stowaways we had and how many deaths on board since our last port. We were happy to truthfully report zero. Now, however, we have two stowaways. Two sea birds are hitching a ride at night. We figure they must have spotted us as we passed 150 miles off Ascension Island and couldn't resist what appeared to be a good thing. They are gone during the day, most likely fishing. They return at night and perch on our radar dome (it's actually flat and mounted 10 feet above our stern so a perfect roost). There is now no land in site so we have become their floating island. Their next opportunity to find land might be when we pass by the Eastern-most point of Brazil. Or maybe Trinidad. Or maybe they will make Neptune's Highway their permanent home and we will have to name them. The birds look like crows. Can anyone tell us what they are(Jeanine?)?
As for deaths on board, each morning reveals flying fish carnage on our fore deck. Today the count is 14. They seem to be attracted to light and the full moon is illuminating our white hull and deck. We sit in the cockpit looking at our lit instrument panel at our own risk. We have had them land at our feet, in our lap and, once, a slap in the face. These, at least, we can toss back while they are still twitching, leaving a shower of scales for us to clean up later.
I think flying fish are my favorite fish. I'm in awe of how far they fly and to see a school of them airborne, looking more like birds than fish, defies notions of species-appropriate behavior. It's a bird, it's a fish, no! It's a lemming!
We must have favorable current now as we sailed all night with only the mainsail and averaged 7.4 kts with 16-18 kts of breeze behind us. We have 1,000 miles behind us and 850 miles to the equator. The last time we were north of the equator on the Atlantic side was 2011. Homeward bound.

Sent from Iridium Mail & Web.

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