The morning the whales were there – by Cookie

DATE:24.03  GMT:00.09  POS:27.01  N,65.53 W COG:005  SOG:5.5






SEA STATE: slight



AIR PRES: 1018

The morning the whales were there

After eleven days of unfavorable winds and still 2200 NM to go, it feels we are forever drifting sort of the right way towards the Azores. The constant rolling, high temperature and inevitable decline of picked fruits and vegetables are taking there toll on the fresh provisioning. We have enough to eat up to Spitzbergen if needed, but the culinary creations I have to come up with being the ships cook, will demand a 17th century attitude towards the menu at the end of this leg.
The crew seems to be fine and accepting for whatever lays ahead of them. There is not much to do other than to stay calm and enjoy this sense of serenity that has recently covered the ships atmosphere like a consoling blanket. The galley, chart house and cargo hatch have been transformed in to a library or wood workshop for whom ever is inspired. All is good.
The bosun had a marvelous insight for serving cinnamon rolls as breakfast. At the end of our day watch me and Signe put on our aprons and took in the heartwarming smell of cinnamon, sugar, butter and cream on top of the good company we enjoy. The rolls have to rise over night and me and ´The Woman´ (= Signe) look proudly with anticipation at our neatly rolled composition of two filled oven trays. ´The library is closing in five minutes´watch leader Ewan says jokingly before switching of the galley light.
The next morning a sweat familiar smell floats from the galley through the fo’c’sle. Breakfast is appreciated while the ship is losing her last bit of knots she was running on for the last few hours. It gets quiet, very quiet. Still in good spirits the starboard watch starts their day (get your books, pencils and tools out!). Then, softly but recognizably, the distinguished sounds of blow wholes releasing pressure surrounds the ship. There are the whales! Three of them in a curious undertaking mood swimming around Tres Hombres. The Prussian blue water is so clear we can see the majestic silhouettes from great depths before they disappear underneath the hull and rise up again on the other side. I climb aloft together with Signe to get a better view. The whales are playing with the spectators by moving, showing, hiding and switching from on side of the ship to the other. From aloft I can see all the goats (= crew members, of which evidently we found out according to the Chinese astrology the majority of them actually is a goat (yes, we have that much time on our hands)) running from port to starboard side and back again trying to get a glimpse of these friendly giants. ´Maybe they are here because they smelled the cinnamon rolls!´ Signe tells me with a big confident smile.
At the same moment a dorado reaches the surface and starts mockingly swimming around the ever so empty fishing lines hanging from the stern. Some crew members start grabbing at the fishing lines as if they would be capable of catching the fish like a cowboy if they were to make a lasso out of it. All the attempts of luring the bait in front of this, at least seven pounds lunch and dinner containing sea creature, are but in vain. A Jan van Gent flies over and excretes his thoughts on top of our plans, we laugh and go back to our positions.

Kind regards Cookie

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