We are gathered around the helm. The entire crew has been waiting for this day since we left Boca Chica: March 5. A special day, a glorious Sunday, a Chef's Day!
Flying the Vanuatu flag means living in Vanuatu in some way and what could be more important than celebrating the holidays of the country you live in?
(We don't hide that it was also a good excuse to bake cake and enjoy it.)

We will celebrate the leader of our group as the people of Vanuatu do. The coming watch had already been woken up with the words: It's time to dress fancy!
And indeed we did. Feathers, hats, veils, colorful patterns, accessories that you would not expect on our ship. Everyone has put effort into their appearance.

Hats are decorated with cuddly toys, beautiful colorful winter hats are combined with a top, because it is still nice and warm. Parasols are worn the other way around, towels turn into headscarves, decorated with feathers, bones and braids of rope.
A pink veil with golden shiny crowns fits very well with our partner's head. Others wear bracelets, bandanas or scarves. Even pajamas with hearts on them, a towel as a cape, a zebra striped shirt, navel shirts and colorful dresses find their way to the deck.

Our captain is wearing a dress. We look like a carnival party whose motto is: Whatever happens, it just has to be fashionable. And so the clothes remain full of tar and paint
in the sailor's chest and out come the clean hippie pants and glittering skirts. And there's glitter all over it. It is blue like the sea and decorates the sun-tanned skin with dots and lines.

The atmosphere is also cheerful during the official part. Everyone thanks our chef, who we are putting in the spotlight today. The little plastic cow, called cacow, earlier in this trip, climbs out of the pine tree and parades on the compass to receive all the cheers. Then she disappears back into her green palace, protected by needles and the leftover Christmas decorations and accessories left there during long night watches.

Our sailors have prepared a game in which sailors are pirates and pirates are sailors, but you are never sure who is who. (Unless you are the boatswain and crew
spies). After some pretty tragic deaths in the game, a pirate takes over the ship to sail into the sunset with a song on her lips.

The game was a lot of fun, but now it's getting delicious. A long piece and a square piece is the signal for the Brownies. That makes two pieces each is the answer from the overwhelmed crew, because there is also a second cake. Ultimately, everyone can enjoy three pieces. It's a party.
The cake is a dream and while half of the crew goes to bed to continue dreaming of a flat ocean with radiant sun and chocolate or lemon cake, the rest are on duty.
That means on a Sunday: stretched out on the deck to enjoy the holiday in a calm wind on the Atlantic Ocean.
We also dream of the cake and the laughs, the smiles and the fun we had on our Chef's Day. Only the helmsman occasionally gets tired from the lack of wind, because he has difficulty keeping course. The roof in front of me glitters shiny and blue. A thought comes into my head.

What would the actual Chief in Vanuatu say when he sees this colorful, cheerful group of sailors, diverse yet so strongly connected, celebrating his day?

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