Sailing with Nine of Cups

Miles run last 24 hours: 139 Miles to go: 1838 A pair of boobies followed us for miles today, alternately fishing and eyeing Cups for a good landing spot. They didn't appear successful at either venture and near dusk, they disappeared. Sometime during David's first watch, a booby did manage to land on the solar panels and spent the night resting, preening and pooping. We have a strict No Hitchhikers -No Stowaway policy on Nine of Cups, but it wasn't posted and evidently this fellow thought it was perfectly fine and fair to hang out for awhile, rest and empty his bowels frequently.

We took some pix when he first landed , just in case he headed off without a farewell. He was still there, however, at my 6am watch. I moved closer and closer with the camera, snapping away as I went. When I was inches away, he gave me an odd look, but expressed neither fear nor interest in my presence. I noted two flying fish on deck and I guess if I was a good host, I should have offered them to our guest, but I didn't, thinking of the additional excrement I'd be cleaning up.

Boobies, in case you're unfamiliar with them, are about the size of a medium duck, with a long, thick, pointed beak and a wonderfully streamlined body that makes them expert divers. They dive from extreme heights and hit the water at breakneck speed like a bullet. They were named "bobos" by Spanish sailors (stupid) because they were so easy to catch and were regularly fooled by lures on fishing lines. Our fellow is brown-backed with a white belly and the reddest pair of webbed feet you've ever seen ... hence a red-footed booby. We have a great photo on the Galapagos page of our website, if you'd like to see them diving. www.nineofcups.com/ "http://www.nineofcups.com/" galapagos.

My entertainment for the day was watching David try to shoo our hitchhiker away. The booby would take off with significant, up-close prodding and then be back before David could return to the cockpit. He'd be on return approach, in fact, before David could turn around ...Ready to land and launch a new load of poop. David dug out his old slingshot and armed with popcorn kernels, fired round after round with no effect, despite the fact he had hit his target. After several fruitless attempts to discourage our unwanted rider, ( I counted no less than 15, but lost count as I nearly peed my pants watching), David finally grabbed a line and swatted him which evidently delivered the right message to his tiny booby brain. He left in a huff and wasn't seen again. Deck count for the day: 2 flying fish - 1 booby