It's rough! But Ron hasn't got sick yet. Scott and I were more sick than Ron last night because he wore a patch. We haven't really eaten yet. Everyone's in pretty good spirits though.

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We're motoring today. The genoa had an overload that needed to be dealt with this morning and then a block broke. Ron, and Scott fixed the block while I fixed the roller furling. The engine is still giving us some small fits but we're babying it along. There is no wind today and we're in calm seas. The generator was fixed yesterday after a lengthy operation on the carb. We've seen a small bit of plastic on the water today and believe we're at the edge of the gyre (No ghost ships yet). We did see a ship on radar last night, but it soon disappeared.

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Oops!

A few individuals noticed and chastised (maybe too strong a word) me for not letting everyone know that Dad and I survived. Well, we did. We made it and then scurried to the closest restaurant as exclaimed, "We want it all!" We ate 1/4 of our plate (mostly because our stomachs shrank), and then walked home drunk (not because we were drunk, but because we couldn't walk on land). To those who (or whom - I never can be sure of the grammatical rule) that are looking for inspiration Dad and I submit the following poem (below). Thanks to all for their wonderful comments, encouragements, and prayers. We can't tell you how much we appreciated them on our journey. It was a tough trip and we're very thankful to be done.

Sean

It Couldn't Be Done by Edgar Albert Guest

Somebody said that it couldn't be done,
But, he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.

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