After a beginning with 7 knots speed average, here we are, almost in Skagerrak.

30 miles away from the Danish coast and the low pressure eye caught up on us.
Sunny, catching fishes for lunch, oiling the mooring cleats and repairing Jibs. All of the sails are squeezed to avoid extra damages from shafing and swinging.

The crew gets a better sleep to recover from an intense sail training. 1.5 knots current to move us on an invisible flying carpet. Slowly reaching the destination.
The sound of the water along the hull is different. Bubbles instead of continuous flow.

I'll let you ask the crew about this intimate environment which covers you at all times.
The voices, banging pans in the galley and the sound of the tools are more perceptible from down below when the wind has a break.

Almost all of us are resting under the water line inside a thick wooden cocoon skin.
Same as the bottles of wine, where the cargo is cooled down because of the sea temperature isolated by planks.
As the people age in a rough and pure concept.

Sea birds were playing around the ship in the air while sailing and now the Boreal Fulmar follow us sitting on the water, paddling. Sometimes they argue with the teens, at times they accelerate to grab the mackerel hanging on a hook. Our pretty pets. Exterior fellows accompanying us on the road.

At the end of the afternoon a reasonably stronger breeze will support our ship to go.

For now, guitar melody is in the air and lunch is about to be ready.

AF

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