The Afriki is in Suwarrow.

The crossing was nothing short of perfect. Ian said that we were privy to some of the best sailing the Afriki has ever seen. Downhill run the whole way, wing on wing averaging almost six knots. Afriki is an Ericson 36', and coming from a 55' Tayana I am a bit on the spoiled side when it come to smooth ride and I'll tell ya that we coulda been sailing on butter. We hove to for about six hours yesterday with no problem. I took the opportunity and had me a salt water bucket bath on the bow. Ian practiced setting his drogue. That was the only pseudo-glitch our whole trip. Get this, on the second day out the captain baked brownies. What? Men baking on boats is a concept completely foreign, yet somehow inspiring to me... Will work for chocolate. I spent many an hour petting/talking with Coca, a 12 year old all white pillow with limbs and whiskers. What an uplifting experience it is to have an animal on board.

We dropped anchor on Saturday around 10 am. Suwarrow is an uber remote atoll and virtually uninhabited. There is no town here and therefore no "official" officials. But The Cook Islands have employed a caretaker, John and his family, for the yachting season from June 1st to November 1st. They reside on the aptly named Anchorage Island, being only place visiting vessels are allowed to anchor behind. Gratuitous piece O' trivia: Tom Neale, a treasure hunter from New Zealand and author of An Island to Oneself lived here for over 25 years.

So, upon arrival we brought our papers and were entered into an "official" guest book and even received mail from buddies on boats that had left the previous week. Ambiance was abundant in the pennants and country flags (some belonging to our friends) adorning the beams of their breezy bungalow. There are three pages of rules that one must adhere to while in Suwarrow, most of which can be violated with permission. For example, spear fishing is prohibited, but upon inquiry we were told, "Yeah, you can spearfish, but get in your dinghy and move on as soon as you make a catch. You have about a minute before the sharks show up to relieve you of your fish." Encouraging, no?

Well, we threw caution into the wind and I agreed to be Ian's getaway driver. After several attempts, Ian shot a strawberry grouper. Identification was made by observing the maroon head because there was little else left of said fish by the time Ian scrambled back into the dinghy with at least two white-tip sharks on his tail. Artist with a knife, the captain produced ample filets that were happily supped upon. This morning the island family delivered some sunrise caught tuna that they had trolled for. We had sashimi for breakfast. Fantastic. Perhaps John is trying to tell us something...

I am of the belief that kids need a occasional good smacking to uphold behavioral standards. The crew of a ship must also be kept in line and, like me, Ian is a vocabulary junkie. What a peculiar vice to share with someone. We consult the dictionary more than a pervert looks at a nudie mags. Anyway, Scrabble is the instrument of my daily floggings. The captain has a history of Scrabbly combat with his former coxswain, Albert, who incidentally had been crushing Ian with brutal intensity. I am now receiving the wrath that can come only from demoralization of ceaseless defeat. However, I am a competitive lass and will continue playing until victory is mine.

Guess what!!? The Sailing With Sora blog has an alias. Some awesome man read my gory dream account and felt I was worthy of a well kept secret. He has linked us directly to captainjacksparrow.com.

Go ahead try it. Now go tell your friends.

Cheers to using all seven letters, Cass