TWO DAYS FROM THE DEVIL’S CAPE

Day 23 12°37.131'S 54°21.643'E. I am so close to Madagascar I can hear the lemurs, even though I don’t even know what sort of sound they make. But everything makes a sound. Doesn’t it? Does it? Is there something soundless out there? I don’t think so. Even deep space and deep sea make sounds. When...

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THE MUTINY THAT NEVER WAS

I am hallucinating land on all 360 degrees of the horizon. My eyes have been like this for two days. I suppose they are hungry. Yesterday was a long, wide cloud. I had a dance party to the song Crimson & Clover by Tommy James and The Shondells to cheer myself up. It seems I...

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THE PLATEAU PORTAL

Day 21 The sun rises, but I can’t see it. All I see are thunder boom-booms behind me. I’m nervous they’re packing some of that freaky wind the boogeyman rides in. I keep a keen eye on the clouds but carry on toward the Mascarene Plateau. My depth sounder doesn’t really work, so I cannot...

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BLUE SKIES, STRANGE MAGIC

Day 20- Sumatra to Madagascar. Today is all blue skies, with puff clouds shaped like dragons, women, and castles. It's mystifying how a storm dies by just fading back into air, like it was never there. I think AWO is in the astral now, with all the other funkadelic things that hit the earth with...

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THE SWIRLING THING HAS A NAME

Day 19 on my way to Madagascar. Position: 12°0.392'S 63°58.829'E. A thing is just a thing until it has a name. Isn't that the truth? The swirling chaotic low-pressure that I’ve been dodging, has now been deemed a Tropical Depression and given the name AWO. It sounds like the name of a new planet. Or...

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JUST ANOTHER 30 KNOT DAY

There was a ship in the Briney Deep, The Briney Deep, the Briney Deep, Skies so dark no sun did glow, Waves so tall the fish lay low. The wind it moaned like the tigers cry, The sails were torn, the mast was high, The stars were lost, the compass broke, And still we sailed,...

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A SHOWER, A STRANGER & THE MOON

It's day 14. I am more than halfway to Madagascar. The conditions have been on the rather violent side for the majority of this sail. There have been highs and lows and moments when I can't discern if I'm having states of delirium—or is it perhaps clairvoyance? What's the difference? At the time of writing...

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SALT, SPARKS & SWELL

Day 13. The boat is no longer a death trap, though it is still a flying fish burial tomb. The sea appears to be subsiding slightly, but moving about the cabin is still dizzying. One 13-foot wave pushes me to starboard, the next to port. They are coming at me from multiple directions at periods...

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ON THE SPIRAL’S EDGE

Forgive me for not writing yesterday. My mom always said, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, and I didn’t have anything nice to say about the ocean. But now I can tell you. Day 12 out here and hell’s bells, it is really blowing. I'm on the spirals...

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