Position Midday:     N 29 45', W 26 58' Position Midnight:   N 29 26', W 26 40' Progress last 24h:    150 Nautical miles

When sorrows come, they come not single fold, but in batalions.[W. Shakespeare]

My night shift was incredibly enriched by steady winds and a perfectly clear sky with the Milky Way as a clear white haze across the black sky. All my nightly friends Orion, Cassiopeia, and Big Dipper were out playing, and Venus joined them towards the end of the night. Little did I know what a different day we had ahead of us!!!

When I woke up (for the second time), we were cruising nicely and preparing to fly the spinakker for the first time. Andy and I got up on the foredeck, and hoisted the bag containing the kite. But due to an unfortunate series of wind changes and misunderstandings, the kite did not get up well, and Andy and I fought a longer battle just to get it down again. However, we eventually got it down, and no harm was done, as we could simply try it later.

But when setting the regular sails, the pole for the front sail got stuck! We tried all the tricks in the book, which made us capable of moving it a bit, but suddenly the pole (which is quite large - about six meters long and 20 cm in diameter) got detached at the mast end, coming down on the deck!!! Fortunately, it didn't hit anyone, but we were a quite surpriced crew, standing with a giant pole across the deck! Meanwhile, and against all odds, oil suddenly started to come out boom, while we were mingling with the pole. This turned out to be a hydrolic leak, which meant that we could no longer take the main sail in and out!

Suddenly cripled by accidents, Andy and John asserted the damage and the chances of repair and/or replacement, which turned out to be very few. Perhaps a manual outhaul could be made for the main sail, but this was not certain, and certainly a lengthy operation. The pole was also not easily repairable, and any repair would be far from lasting. Facing 2000 nautical miles without the two main sailing features of the ship and the deadlines of Christmas at the other end, we all sat down and decided to turn around, and head for the Canarie Islands, postponing the Atlantic crossing to January. Though it was hard to make such a decision, it was at the same time an experience to be 1000 kilometers into the Atlantic, and facing a choice with so far reaching consequences.

As we turned the ship into the wind and waves, the rolling of the ship picked up along with the wind in the cockpit, and I went below deck and changed my white shorts for my blue jeans and thought of my lost... no postponed... red pants (worn by those who have crossed the Atlantic Ocean).
Dinner was quite and thoughtful, and somehow the events of the day had not quite broken the spirit onboard. Only the cruising schedule was a little offset, as we all stayed up longer than usual, sighting a whale in the distance and enjoying the fantasticly beautiful sunset. Over and out from these parts of the Atlantic.