Sometime late yesterday, SCOOTS slipped across the invisible line marking the halfway point in our voyage from Banderas Bay to Hiva Oa in the Marquesas. Eric and I celebrated by opening the Halfway Gift given to us by Ben and Lucy of s/v Georgia, fellow Californians who have sailed many miles and crossed many oceans and who happened to be berthed right next to us in La Cruz for awhile. The gift turned out to be a truffle brownie mix, which I baked for our dessert. We also enjoyed brownies during our night watches. Thank you, Ben and Lucy!

We spent the day playing Dodge the Squall, as our location was pocked with many of the tall, brooding cumulonumbus clouds that mark these stormlets. I wondered whether we were sailing through the ITCZ - despite the continued presence of wind - as the whole area evoked a feeling of barely-caged chaos. The night was also squally; we spent our night shifts watching the radar and continually adjusting wind pilot Leela's angle to the wind, to keep us dry, if possible. Hint: sometimes it's not possible.

Since leaving Banderas Bay 11 days ago, and voyaging out onto the ocean, Eric and I have noticed some changes in ourselves. I thought I'd share some of them with you...

...We have become an even closer team, working through procedures faster and more efficiently each time (spinnaker up in 5 minutes, down in 3; we'll never be racers at that pace, but for us, having just flown the chute a couple of times before this trip, I think that's pretty good), and it's certainly faster than it was, And not only that, but we also trust each other more, as we are each responsible for keeping the other one safe while they're asleep. Petty little things fall by the wayside; they really don't matter.

...We have both relaxed a bit. Preparing for a trip like this necessarily requires you to think of nightmare scenarios: what if we need the life raft? what if we get sick? is our ditch bag packed with what we need, and ready to go? is the boat in good enough condition to make a trip of this length? if XYZ breaks, can we fix it at sea, or will we need to return to port? do we have the spares we need? And so, when we left, I'll admit that I was still somewhat in that frame of mind. For the first few days, I was almost schizophrenic, listening to every little sound SCOOTS made, wondering whether it was something to worry about, and not able to tune any of them out. After awhile - and after discovering the source of some of these noises and talking over any consequences of them - I've been able to relax and tune out the sounds that I know aren't anything to worry about. Which is not to say they're not annoying.

...we're gotten our sea legs. We can get around SCOOTS quite well now, regardless of what dance the sea has her doing. We also each have some "cruise bruises" from when our planned movement went awry.

...we've adjusted to our watch schedules. Which is not to say that we enjoy getting up every three hours at night, but we can do it with some semblance of civility and sanity; especially when we remember to take naps during the day.

...we're in a groove with our daily routine now, which looks something like this: 7 am: Van off watch, makes coffee for Eric, we take part in the PPJ radio net;

8am: Eric downloads weather products and any email mail that has arrived overnight (thank you for sending email! It's always a treat to receive it!)

9-11 am: we look at the Gribs, and other weather data, and decide on our course for the day, which requires us to put up/take down particular sails

11-1230: Van usually takes a nap; Eric keeps an eye on things, or, we work on things that need to be done

12:30: Van gets up and makes lunch for the two of us

2 pm: download some more weatherfaxes and take a look at the new data

3-5: depends on what we need to do, any sails to repair? or just enjoy the scenery and the wildlife

5-6: Eric often naps around this time

6-7 pm: dinner happens, and Van gets ready for her first off-watch of the night

7-10 pm: Eric on watch

10 pm- 1 am: Van on watch

1-4 am: Eric on watch

4-7 am: Van on watch, makes coffee for herself

7 am: rinse and repeat

So that's where we are right now, literally and figuratively.

Deck Check: 3 flying fish, no squids Miles in last 24 hours: 140, for an average speed of 5.8 knots Total miles traveled: 1630 Miles to go: 1250