Sometimes you have afternoons which are exactly how you thought they would be on a sailing ship in the tropes: the sun just right above your head, a cool breeze in the front, lightly cracking sails and murmuring waves…
You are steering a bit. And nothing else.
Whoever is on deck is dreaming a bit, and doesn’t say much, just what has to be said.
Motor, generator, water-maker they all have their siesta. Also the birds. On the fishing line there is just a hook, no fish at all.
The water of the ocean is a beautiful blue. Not a swimming pool blue, or azure blue, but just lonely-planet blue. It inspires me to take a bath, but Lars keeps me back, because of predator fishes, sharks and other creepy creatures… O.k. Not today, but perhaps tomorrow?
Best regards from all epicureans!