Day 12
Daybreak finds us nearing the Doldrums, that melting pot of shifting winds, currents, and clouds officially entitled the Intertropical Convergence Zone. It’s the meeting point of the southeastern and northeastern trade winds near the equator, where hot sun and warm water combine to fill the sky with clouds and squalls. The two wind gangs are in a permanent throw-down, vying to control this global stretch of turf. Or water, rather. This gangland war can result in a stand-off and days of glassy swells, or a swirl of shifting gusts as opposing sides test the other’s defenses.
For Leona it means a state of alert, with jib out, main reefed, and our “iron sail” on standby. Judge us not, but we do have plenty of fuel to ensure we don’t descend into a doldrums of our own as we navigate our way through. We could be at a standstill, or we could be flying.
Melanie Eckford-Prossor’s hand-crafted UV screens do double duty as H2O protectors.
We are going to need these in the next few days.
And everything is wet.
The wet of heavy air weighs one down, especially at night when you are trying to grab some precious sleep, splayed out on a tilting bunk with a foot pressed against the wall and a hand tucked under the mattress to hold yourself in place.
But then the very welcome rain appears on the horizon, creeping towards Leona. It relieves the pressure and washes the decks and rails and lines clean of the salt and bird souvenirs. And inquisitive squid.
To reassure our foodie friends, we are eating very well. Most meals are one-pot creations, such as Jeff’s Spicy Sausage-Potato-Cabbage Hotpot, Georgie’s Ginger-Chicken-Cabbage Salad, or my Roasted Leftovers-Cabbage Chili. We have baked banana bread and corn bread, but not yet attempted bread bread. Melon, oranges and apples are just hitting their peak, but we are running out of romaine and green onions. Onions, garlic and cabbage continue to swing happily in their hammocks, threatening concussion but providing all sorts of flavor. Or at least roughage in the case of the cabbage.
Georgie demonstrates best practices in the galley.
The Frozen Leona Cocktail:
4 frozen bananas
6 limes
¼ carton coconut milk
¼ can coconut cream
Rum as needed
1. Find the blender hidden in a secret compartment.
2. Send a soldier down into the starboard lazarette. Approach the lair of Leona’s version of Hagrid’s Monster Book of Monsters (see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkeban): David’s beloved freezer that, unless properly restrained, will attack any brave soul who attempts to retrieve a frozen banana. Beware of shrimp, sausages, or pans of lasagna pelting out of the opened door: all sorts of foul language could result. Shove the frozen food back into the offending appliance (retaining a bag of bananas) and lock it down as best you can. Pray that a wilful shrimp has not escaped.
3. Apply rum as needed to soothe nerves.
4. Juice limes with fingers and a fork because “someone” forgot to pack a juicer.
5. Crawl into the space under the forward stairs to find the coconut milk. Add to blender.
6. Blend bananas, lime juice, coconut milk and lashings of rum.
7. Taste.
8. Add coconut cream.
9. Add more rum.
10. Divide among four glasses and serve immediately.
The further we travel the more we shed: scopolamine patches, Relief Bands, wrist-watches, make-up, hairstyles, routine, shoes, non-immediate cares, pounds, social norms…they fade as we inhabit our sea-selves.
Yet technology, for all its obvious and numerous benefits, creates a tether to our land-selves. Georgie and I have a running discussion about its pros and cons: can we really disconnect? how much do we need to disconnect? can we turn disconnection on and off?
But sometimes connection is a good thing.
Georgie FTing Wilfred, organizing his addition to Leona’s crew.
I hope he’s ready for life on a slack-line.