The day that time was always one step ahead of us. And schedules were not to be followed!

Our plan was to leave the harbour of La Carunha at ten, or eleven 'o clock at the latest. Up to Cerro de Muxia (just behind the corner of isla Pedrosa) easy sailing was promised, with only 45 nautical miles to go. This should have taken us about 6 hours with an expected wind speed of approximately 8 knots.

However, plans change. There was an emergency trip to the dentist, combined with zero winds and a continuous heeling of 30 percent of the ship. And 45 nautical miles became more than 60. What happened? Read on and you will find out...

Boatman Bertram (‘Di Caprio’) felt sick for a couple of days. But we all made fun of him since he had just came back from the Danish Roskilde Festival. He must have ‘Roskilde disease’ we thought and showed him no mercy, saying he should not have drunk so much... However our on board doctor Pernilla didn't believe the story. She used a spoon and a head torch, to look in his throat - we just took pictures of this doctor examination. But she was right. This morning they went to the dentist. One of his wisdom teeth had to be removed, as well as the abscess underneath and he also needed stitches. (‘Di Caprio’ proudly brought the bloody tooth home in a tiny little plastic bag to show us: it makes us feel a little bit guilty). Our brave bosun went to bed after that and I haven’t seen him since... It’s a good thing this didn't happen out in the Atlantic!

This unexpected delay made our morning plan fall in to the water. We took advantage of the extra time. We had a lovely elaborate breakfast on the deck, cleaned the toilets, the floor, and scrubbed the salt from our ship. I even had another hot shower! What a luxury! This was my second in two days (in two weeks) and one might get used to that. Our strong skipper left the ship to do 'some' groceries. He took so long that I went to look for him. I suspected him to secretly be in the nearest ice-cream parlour. But no, after a long time, he appeared in the harbour carrying half the content of the supermarket. I bet there was no bottled water left in the store, nor pineapples, nor yoghurt either. Anyway, we left the harbour at least 3 hours later than the original plan.

Finally cruising from what was supposed to be easy sailing but with the wind from ahead we have to beat windward. I call it sewing through the water. At one point you 'stitch' towards your destination. Half an hour later you change direction away from your destination. It doesn’t seem like we’re getting any closer, as we zig zag through the sea. If you were to at our route on the map you would probably think that we must have been drunk. However, we nearly doubled the distance there.

Then, just when I'm standing behind the wheel, the wind drops. We do zero point zero knots. The ship is completely motionless. And we just float around like a silly rubber duck in a very large bath tub. We start the engine, again.

Since the water is so calm we decide it’s time for lunch. We make bread with tuna salad and avocado cream sounds good. That is what we thought. But then suddenly the wind picks up and blows our sails. Waves overrule the calm, steady water. The boat heels 30 percent while it bumps from wave to wave.  I suddenly find myself next to the doctor making sandwiches, with our bums squished against the sink that is!

We stick all the ingredients behind other things (pots and pans) to stabilise them. And we must work quickly before the seasickness kicks in. However, we manage to get delicious sandwiches on deck. We even add fresh tomato, eggs and cucumber. The famous Subway sandwich store would not do any better, especially not in these heeling sea-circumstances.

And there they are again. I was already missing them, but I thought they maybe had to go to school or were asleep. But our happy, cheerful dolphin friends are back. They jump out of the waves next to the boat.  Some of them understand the beauty of synchronicity. It looks fantastic as they jump in couples or small groups. They really give us a show. We stand on the deck and the sea is the theatre. According to our doctor the dolphins closer to Portugal seem to jump much higher then their (lazy) Spanish friends. I don't know, but she was proven right. It makes me wonder why. However, we enjoy them, again.

Life at sea is just beautiful!

We are sailing for hours and hours. And there is no such thing as easy sailing. The clouds are mildly losing their rain, stomachs are hungry and our destination doesn't seem to get any zig-zagging closer.