Saturday September 10th, The Opposite of Yee Haw.

Lat 27 26.23S
Lon 42 26.16E

And then the wind died.

The seas quieted away until were were left lolling about on glassy seas in the fading swells. Down came the sails, and on came the port side engine; it is so nice to be able to choose between two engines.

I hit the sack and came back up on watch at 3:00am to a damp and clammy night. Everything was dripping with condensation and before long my clothes were damp and clinging. The night sky above was clear but I could see nothing along the horizon. Sunrise was a dull ochre ball rising through the progressive pink haze wash that ringed the horizon. The colours worked their way through the spectrum as I looked higher into the inky blue/violet/black sky directly above. The dawn's canvas bleached away quickly enough to full daylight and it didn't take long to burn off the damp.

It is now midday and the engine drones on. (The two engines are set at the very back of the hulls and in truth are very quiet compared to every monohull I've been on.) The chart plotter still shows that we are surrounded by freighter traffic, but as we look out we are alone in our seven mile diameter bubble. We wouldn't know they were there except for the often inane babble on the radio.

We are well into the Mozambique channel in a steady southerly current. Our course over the ground is 280 degrees, our boat is heading at 303 degrees with about 420 n.miles to go our turn into Durban. It is all very quiet and calm.