1425 Friday June 24
We are rushing along across the Cabot Strait. Winds are favorable, blowing 24 to 28 knots out of the south, a little forward of abeam. We are making better than seven knots with reefs in main and genoa with Banquereau Bank to our south and the depths of the strait below us. We are off soundings in deep water; but, soon we will reach the other side of the Strait and depths will abruptly shoal from 1,600 feet to 250 feet.
This wind is better than I could have hoped for and is moving us ahead of schedule as Tazzarin bounds along with a bone in her teeth towards Newfoundland. Greg is at the helm, dressed in foul weather gear wearing his inflatable PFD and tethered to the boat by a harness as water surges past. We are several days into our voyage from Manchester to St. John's. At this point, as in many voyages, the crew have settled into the rhythm of the watch schedule. Off watch crew chat, I navigate and collect weather data. Right now, Carl is reading in the cockpit. Later Greg will delve back into the copy of Kenneth Roberts' classic, Arundel. Each in their own way feels a bit more at home. For me, the sea is a happy place. I like it here. The rhythm is good. So is the rushing down the rhumb line to our next port; the speed is exhilarating.
At the same time, there is some weariness in each of us. Standing one-man watches along with some breezy weather and the boat over on her ear, fatigue can creep in. Bunk time is valued. So is the food Annie provisioned us with.
With luck, we may make our destination by late Sunday. We will be tucking in to Long Pond, around the corner from St. John's in Conception Bay. From now to then, I hope the breeze holds as the forecast suggests.
Bill
