October 19

Continue to be reminded that the term 'easy job' is an oxymoron on a boat. Case in point was freeing up main anchor roller which had contributed to loss of zinc and subsequent rust on primary anchor chain. Spent morning with that, deep in the bilge installing stuffing box packing, organizing application of anti-fouling and arranging for remarkably inexpensive brightwork varnishing followed by afternoon attempting to drive metabolism to zero in lieu of any sort of motion. Lunch was goat 'buss-up shot' (sort of an open-faced roti). Dinner was flying fish sandwich and callaloo soup. Sailing the Caribbean tends to broaden your palate.

October 20

Apologies to those few masochistic souls who prefer this abuse, daily. One of the deadly sins (naming which would spoil the fun) prevented any contact, last night, with a computer.

Woke early to finish worst of jobs before worst of heat. The luxury of wasting cool(ish) mornings on breakfast seems a distant memory. Again patronized Roti Hut for lunch with Aussie friend, Robert, who is providing instruction in the rudiments of cricket (English game that is completely indecipherable to most Americans. Bet you don't know what a wicket actually is!) Robert's home club may play Trinidad, Friday, for some championship in a version called 20/20 (don't ask). This may call for parking rapidly de-larding caboose under a bar TV with a soda pop or two. Spent balance of daylight, like yesterday, as inert blob of protoplasm.

Living in a boat on the hard sucks for so many reasons. Lusting for launch on Thursday.

Jack