Stars, clouds, waves and wind these are the topics we discuss frequently. The bookshelves are stuffed with texts to helps us with puzzles although they do not always have the answers. We spend much of the day surrounded by the sea and sky. The other boats in our little fleet all have pilot houses or enclosed cockpits where they can work on their computers or watch movies out of the wind and weather. While we have a small dodger atop the ladder, I prefer to be outside wearing my foul weather gear as we fly along.

When you travel there is part of your brain that is always seeking the familiar. The taste that reminds you of family, the cool shadows that transport you to the deep woods and the stars that show you the way home. Today I finished a UN primer on Polynesian Navigation, a parting gift from Kirsty and friends at work. Much of the classic Polynesian navigation involved deep study of the stars as guiding directions between the islands. Over years young navigators studied the stars both from boats and using models of the skies built into the roofs of open air study halls, learning where 200 stars rose and set to navigate. The stories that accompany the stars reflect the Pacific environments rather than ancient myths. A tropical bird, the long tailed red billed brilliant white bird that visits us often, is the Rising Southern Cross.. Corvus, the crow in Latin and the stars I sail for here is known as a pair of porpoises or a frigate bird. In front of our little mountain cabin on winter nights Orion, the belted hunter constellation dances. Here Orion's belt is a school of fish possibly skip jacks or a line of sooty terns. Our modern southern hemisphere guide, a wheel that you spin according to the date and time, instructs you to find someone who knows these stars and start with Orion. The two closest Australians are 590 nautical miles behind us and I cannot find Orion.

Orion was not on my mind when I struggled to get up at 342 this morning. My throat was really sore. Covid? Unlikely since we have been at sea for 10 days. The boats motion is a little rough so I move slowly and discover my arms are really sore. OH right I hand steered an excited Mabel Rose 4 hours yesterday. The dark 2 hour shift with the increasing wind required a lot of concentration to keep the boat on course. I had resorted to Christmas carols sung loudly to keep my focus on the sailing hence the sore throat and stiff arms. Karl announces I may have to hand steer much of my 6 hour morning watch so it is with a bit of trepidation that I climb out into the dark to see what is up. As I drink my tea the skies clear and the stars come out. With only the jib (sail in front) up I can see a lot more of the sky. I am tucked into the stern where I can tend the windvane. I look over my shoulder. Orion wearing his belt of skipjacks right on the stern looking back at me. I have found Orion dressed for Polynesia and ready to guide us.

Fish Update: we seem to have moved from squid country to flying fish country. 4 on board this morning. One fresh enough to accompany our egg and plantain breakfast.