So I’m few days behind staying in touch, but I can get y’all a note from my doctor.
FYI, if you ever plan on sailing around the world, I would suggest not getting the flu four days before departure. I’m not exactly sure how we got (almost) everything we needed done, but alas, now that I have gained consciousness from the purgatory of high fevers and body aches, it appears that we are somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean, 300 miles from Columbia.
Of course, as expected, Ahab has been at the pinnacle of his game. While I was languishing between cold sweats and hot flashes, he managed the kids, got the boat prepped after being up on the hard, AND put on his party pants to meet-n-greet all the other boats in the fleet. Well done babe. I only had one job, and that was to provision. Since I knew it was going to be a Herculean effort, David came with me to the market – good thing too because we filled three carts. I think we should be good until Panama. Unfortunately, I was in a dull torpor putting the food away, so I have no idea where anything is stashed. I’m positive I bought marshmallows, and I know I had to hid them, but their whereabouts shall remain a mystery.
We missed the actual start of the rally – the fact that we left on the proper day was a miracle. Now that we have a couple hundred miles under the keels, things are falling into place, routines established. The weather and sailing conditions have been textbook downwind sailing, made perfect for the parasailor. Our new parasailor, name yet to be determined, is one size smaller then The Whomper – and about a million times easier to handle. We’ve had it up the past three days and will continue to fly it until we reach the turn at the Columbian Coast.
Looking forward to feeling better, finally meeting the fleet, and experiencing this amazing journey.