Sailors are generally a superstitious lot, so much so that there are books on the subject. I would set myself aside from those who knock on wood at every conceivable moment and go so far as to say I am not superstitious. Even though as a child I recall throwing salt over my shoulder to ward off some evil that would befall our household based on something that may of happened at the dinner table. I can, however learn from experience, and some would say my mistakes. A case in point. We departed Bora Bora yesterday which was Friday. There is an old sailing superstition, which Charlene has been warning me about for some time, about you do not leave on a passage on Friday. Kind of like everything in French Polynesia is closed on Sunday. Except Charlene may be right about not leaving on a Friday, no matter what the weather guru says you ought to do. What occurred that you think Charlene is correct in her belief of these superstitions, you might ask. Well for one thing the auto pilot, which steers the boat 99.97% of the time far better than we can quit. Just like that it would not work on Friday. Works just fine today. You may be thinking something along the line of he fixes all the stuff on the boat, so he probably fixed the autopilot. Wrong. What I did was dig out the spare autopilot motor we have been carrying for just such an event, then I took all the stuff stored in the lazzarette (a very large cockpit locker, where all tools, cleaning supplies, buckets etc are kept) out and got ready to install the replacement motor. Jessica, our Canadian shipmate (knocks on wood all the time) was on watch and steering the boat quite nicely when I disappeared under the deck and into the lazzarette. Wanting to check things out before I started the project, I hollered up from the depths of the locker something like "try the autopilot". Jessica, being a good shipmate and member of our crew responded promptly by pressing the button which is marked AUTO. What occurred was nothing short of amazing. There was a familiar thunk, followed by an equally familiar whining sound the autopilot makes while steering the boat. I am, at this point under the cockpit watching the steering mechanism as the autopilot drives the boat; it took a few minutes for me to comprehend a few things. It was Saturday and the autopilot was working without me even touching it, I had spent about a half hour emptying the lazzarette and would spend an equal amount of time, or more putting all the stuff back and most importantly there was no explanation for the autopilot not working Friday, but working just fine now! Two things ran through my head, Charlene was right about not ever, under any circumstances leaving in Friday, and should I go eat one of the bananas Charlene and Jessica bought at the grocery store yesterday? I choose to pass on the banana, not wanting to push my luck, and went forward by the mast to take down our French Polynesia flag. After doing so while turning around I noticed the big fat pin that holds the universal joint connecting the boom to the mast was about halfway out, and it would soon be all the way out, bouncing on the deck then overboard with catastrophic results. A great collective effort ensued to get the big fat pin back where it belonged and secured. Thank God I did not eat the banana. More later