Noon Position: 01 54' S, 120 58' W, SOG 5.5, COG 010, Day's Run 127nm.
The water (and air) temperature has dropped a little bit as we've sailed
into some westbound current, carrying a little bit of the southern ocean
out across the Pacific. I've been reading over my journal from the way
out, remembering how the stove plagued me with its squeaks and squawks
and the villainous assaults of the pen-bandits. Funny. Yesterday
morning the stove fell off (the third time, I think?), and in the past
four days I have lost two pencils and at least three pens. Clearly it
wouldn't be proper to cross the equator without the stove having caused
some last bit of deviltry or with all my writing implements intact.
Drawing inspiration from the past, in my search for pens I checked the
fridge, but all I can find in there is a small colony of bugs. 20,000
miles out to sea, with only a few of the indomitable sweet potatoes
left, and I am plagued with these stupid little bugs. Apparently
they're neat freaks, since they didn't start to appear until I started
to give the boat a good-cleaning back in the variables. If only I could
train them to nibble mold out of cracks and crevices, and we could get
along just fine. But instead, I seem to find at least one new spot a
day to hose down with Raid.