Dear All,

The sting of leaving our little island home is slowly being numbed by mid-passage routine. We spend our days reading, playing guitar and keeping me away from the galley and aurora away from the music selection... morale is important at this point and the combination of bad meals and polka could easily put us over the edge. Our 3 hours on, 6-off watch routine is a fairly relaxed luxury, and since all of us can sail except me, we are in safe hands for over 65% of the time.

Sailing has been generally a joy. Except for a day of light-wind motoring, we've made good way with steady trades, generally out of the E-ESE. The temperature has been pleasant enough, but it's starting to get a bit sticky now above 2°00' S. We were even afforded a couple of ocean swims (depth ~5000 m) whilst becalmed. Dick and Aurora seemed delighted that I managed the extra bath...

Two large grey birds of unknown variety (not boobies or cormorants) started joining us late in the night, when they would sit and squawk at us (then each other, then us again) loudly from their newly requisitioned perch on the solar panels. I named them Bob and Betty. A few nights later they invited 6 more of their friends to join and the whole menagerie settled in at various strategic points in the rigging. In the last few nights they get close enough to let you touch them and they don't seem bothered. They also shit all over Dick's boat which leads him to curse, so they're alright by me.

The last 36 hours have started getting a little rough. We had a squall pop up Friday evening and it's been choppy ever since, with the 20+ wind backing and veering as much as 100 degrees (NNE to S) in the space of a few minutes. We continued to fly the Parasailor/spinnaker which kept our speeds respectable.

Early Saturday morning, however, things took a sad turn. Dick was doing his utmost to pitch-pole the whole catamaran by keeping the para up in 25+ knots and choppy confused seas. Finally at around 30 kts, the poor sail gave up and saved us by blowing out to shreds. Thus the beloved Parasailor met it's demise at around 0700, near 02°03'S 032°33W, at the tender age of just 4.5. We've bundled it's mortal remains in an improvised morgue in the forelocker.

Some time in the next 24 hours we should cross the equator. As this will be Aurora's first crossing, we will follow the traditional ceremonial rites, including dousing her in cold water, and making her prepare all the meals for the rest of the trip... we ask for your help in verifying these traditions, as she doesn't believe us.

Lastly, we have been fishing, but unlike Carlos, Valentina, and probably every other boat in this hemisphere, we have caught nothing. And we won't, because I'm on board, and it's a 45 year tradition that no boat I'm on catches fish.

Hope everyone is well! We miss you dearly can't wait to see some pics and updates from the fleet, and St H base!

Love,
Brian on behalf of Umnyama crew!
00°46S, 34°57W