Well, then. It's midnight. My watch. Elisabeth is getting a well-deserved sleep. We are hove to just about 15 miles out of the entrance to this side of Fiji - Navula Pass. At 0300, we will make our way to that entrance and arrive at daybreak. But for now, we are just keeping watch for traffic. Elisabeth had her share of contacts to keep track of. Big ships, easily tracked with the aid of AIS, and a fish boat to track the old fashion way - eyes and binoculars. Fish boats are always a bit difficult. The have position lights, of course, but they also have about a million bright white lights completely drowning out the position lights. I got up and lent a hand. I believe we were seeing his starboard side, but Elisabeth thinks she saw the red lights of port. He was reaching our comfort distance of two miles (thank you radar) so we changed "tacks" and are now drifting back toward the shore at 1.8 knots.

Today was interesting. Remember that there was a very light northerly wind of about 5 knots that we had to motor against. The morning was a beautiful blue sky with wonderful flat sea. The air was warm, well it felt hot to us being used to the New Zealand climate by now. While Elisabeth slept, I took the opportunity to refuel the boat using the jerry cans we carry on deck. Afterward, we both enjoyed our first cockpit shower in a long time. This is a big treat. I don't know why it is so nice, but it is. After the excitement of last night, it was nice to enjoy with this relaxing treat. (Tell you about the excitement later.)

About half way through the day, we didn't need to motor any more. The wind started filling in from the south. Pity it wasn't here a little earlier - I would be writing this from a nice anchorage. But was it ever nice, the sea was gentle, the day was beautiful, and the two of us sat like a couple of lovebirds back at the helm. It was one of those magical moments where we just get thankful for each other, for the past ten years we have enjoyed together - we have a ten year anniversary coming up this year. Elisabeth was wearing a little blue beach dress that I bought her on the beach at Cabo San Lucas back on the 2005 Baja Ha Ha. What year is it now? Hmmm.. I guess we've been doing this cruising thing for a while now. Funny, we still feel like babies. Happy ones at that.

Ok the excitement of last night. Many people ask us to write about the exciting adventurous stuff. Storms, big wind, pirates, sea monsters. Etc. We know a few people who do this kind of writing, and after a while, one comes to believe that these people are very lucky to be alive. It seems that they narrowly escape death and disaster every time they go out. Life is not full of calamity for us. It does have its challenges and sometimes we have to work pretty hard. For us, we find value and satisfaction in that. What did someone say? That the difference between adventure and ordeal is attitude?

Ok. Well hopefully this hasn't been over-billed. Last night we were motoring along before the moon came up. It was dark. It can get dark like you can't imagine out here. No stars, no hand in front of you face. No reference about which way is up on a pitching boat. We had that. Until the squall with the lightning storm. In the distance, I started seeing bright flashes of light. Lightning. We hate lightning on the boat. A quick look on the radar, showed that we were being engulfed by a rather sizable lightning storm. A few drops, then and intense rain started, so down below we went - the chart and radar would be our eyes. Using the radar, we tried making turns (we can steer from down below) to get out, but it was simply impossible and we resumed our original course. Soon, lightning bright enough to be painful to see was happening with frequency. Bolts shooting down to the water. All very dramatic and quite frightening. The thunder was unbelievably loud. We had never been so close to such an event before. We turned everything off that we could. Radar off, transponder off. Anything that might attract an electrical charge. We were on edge and yes frightened. "Your Rock and Roll Argonauts" are not immune from seas sickness or properly applied fear. I don't remember how long we were stuck in this little event, but eventually, it just simply dissipated. Vanished. The sky went clear. The moon was there, and life was good again. We did not get struck by lightning. We did, in fact, escape disaster, just like those people I told you about. Elisabeth said this afternoon that the lightning hurt her eyes so much that she found herself thinking that maybe she would be well served to wear her sunglasses for protection.

See you tomorrow!