Water Temp 76

We continue west. Minor squalls are forecast for the next 24-48 hours. We hope that they bring some (but not too much) wind. Hope springs eternal.

The boys continue to "catch" (collect) flying fish every AM. Their ultimate fate is to be hung from the awning by the tail. There are now four of them there adorning our meal area. It is my hope that they will dry before they begin to stink. If so, they can probably be effectively utilized as Christmas ornaments for the next several years (presuming, of course, that the cat doesn't get them). If not, they will merely stink. At that point a boat council meeting will need to be convened to determine
their fate. The result would appear to be a foregone conclusion, however, as there are four adults on the boat and only three prime perpetrators.

In the prime perpetrator department, they boys apparently managed to smuggle three sticks on board in Las Palmas (actually, I'm told that two of the sticks had been previously smuggled at points East but Matthew added a third in the Canaries). Anyhow, with appropriate notches carved in them they have become suitable rubber-band guns. The main salon is now a free-fire zone. It feels as if one is being bitten by mosquitoes when one is caught in the crossfire. They label their ammunition with a 1, 2
or 3. Which seemed to be a good idea until one band got caught in and jammed the printer, which displeased the captain mightily. The culprit was easily identified, however, by the band's number and both admonished and sentenced to punitive isolation in his berth (for at least 30 seconds), however.

Meals continue. I'm currently observing a freshly baked loaf of bread being sliced for a belated breakfast. It will be combined with an equally freshly baked coffee cake and fresh fruit (oranges, apples and mangoes). Nobody is starving.

One final observation shared by all. The ocean is black at night. We've had nightly cloud cover for the last few nights. Additionally, the moon is relatively new. Without either starlight or moonlight, and well beyond the distance of mainland lights, one can't even see the horizon. It's like living inside a coal-sack.

Fair winds...