Sunday 24 May 2015

Yesterday as we passed Ilot Maitre, our intended anchorage, a 30 knot squall was blowing up a meter chop. The 8 or 10 boats on anchor began scattering like a longhorn stampede at a snake roundup. With reefed main we continued making 7 knots off the wind to Plan B, a well-protected horseshoe cove at Ile Uere 3 miles distant, where we dodged a few others with the same idea. Well hooked with a now lovely breeze, we retired to the serenity of our cabin to reflect that it was an hour earlier than New Zealand and thus not yet happy hour. Realizing that acclimation to a new time zone must proceed with care to prevent ill effects of jetlag, we judged it prudent to remain on Kiwi time for the night and straightaway broke out the gin.

Exercising deficient foresight, we had eaten all bananas on passage reducing likelihood of having traditional Sunday thusly-imbued pancakes to approximately zero. Eschewing remorse, we soldiered on with French toast (pain du perdue) enhanced, at least, by real Canadian maple syrup and orange slices.

Outlook from GRIB (Grotesquely Insufficient and Inexcusable Bullsplatter) using GFS (Goofy Forecaster Stylings) weather model shows gentle tradewind conditions for next 16 days. Sometimes you just want to believe. Temperatures in New Cal remain balmy, but seldom hot, all year due to its location at 22 degrees, rather south of other Pacific islands. Regrettably, our time here will be short as Indonesia awaits and flying out to evacuate an expensive storage room of left- behind, useless-on-a-boat stuff will necessitate a week or two in Brisbane. Heirlooms go to family and all unsold remains sleep with the fishes.

Jack