Excerpt from Chapter 3:  A work in progress.....  Copyright Kaci Cronkhite 2007

Address:  Pacific Ocean
3° south. 120° west; On passage from Galapagos to Hawaii
Force 3: Gentle breeze

I could live here, I blurted silently.  There was no one to talk to in thousands of miles. I've got water, food, books and a great radio.  The westbound current below. The infinite sky above. Held between them, I sighed in bliss and looked around.

Blue, as far as I could see. Below, beside, ahead and above me.  I was surrounded by color and touched by a soft and steady breeze.  My fingers curled a little tighter on the tiller, then relaxed.  Slowly, I analyzed the water closest to me, then carefully worked my gaze to the horizon.  Stepping to port, I did the same serious review of the water ahead on the left side of the boat. Turning again, my back to the tiller, I continued the staring study, completing the circle, convinced there was nothing. No ships. No logs. No danger.

Seeing nothing but infinite shades of blue and one brown booby, I sat down and leaned against the salty green canvas pockets stuffed with lazy rope ends, the working ends attached to the storm stays'l laying loose, but ready on the foredeck if we needed it.  We didn't need it, so for the time being the clump of lazy rope made a perfect head rest. 

Listening to the steady whoosh and tinkle of water passing by, I felt the rhythm, like a dance, as the boat rocked gently forward and back, then side to side.  Aided by the prayerful crossing, the meditative motion, I enjoyed the bliss.  In another five minutes, I'd be up repeating my sweep of the surroundings. In another hour, my watch would be over, Nancy would re-enter the waking world and we'd share a coffee and discuss the latest news about the weatherfax. 

But for the moment, my eyes fixed on the infinity of the horizon ahead continuing my day dream.  Day dream, I thought. It's dawn, not yet sunrise. I'm having a dawn dream, I corrected.  With the distracting word issue aside, I looked back at the horizon. It lay there, joined with the surface of the ocean, always beckoning and full of promise, always the first place where the scene would change - a boat, a fin, a mountain top, a palm tree.  Eventually, the latter would appear, but for now, more than a thousand miles from Galapagos and three thousand from Hawaii, it probably wouldn't.  I could sail slowly at this latitude where there were miles and miles of good weather ahead, gentle current below, a daily build up of clouds to deliver rain, the buoyant boat, beckoning blue and food.  I have all I need.

I blinked, rolled my head a little to see the compass. Nudging the tiller again, the compass rocked two points to the west, back to 270 degrees. Rolling up with a swell, I stood and repeated my routine scan.  Focus. Refocus. Squint.  Look for small boats, debris, ships, whales, birds, anything dangerous, anything not blue.  Look close. Look middle. Look far.  

To be continued......  Want to read more?