Notes from the cabin – Day 70
The night as the bushmen say – look the darkness creeps ever closer, as they point out the long shadows of the kalahari dune advancing towards us from the West. They are accurate in their observation as it is not the sun that is setting, but the earth rolling away from it’s stationary life force.
But here on the deep ocean, there are no shadows creeping towards us. The sun, like a stone falling in slow motion simply drops out of sight, no dunes turning orange then red as the light shift – just the blue sea turning rapidly grey then inky black.
Then quickly the night brings on, not a 5 star show, but a billion star spectacular.Last night was the most breath taking night of 69 long monotonous, painful and sometimes sad nights. I rowed West – Jupiter at my stern with he southern cross off to the port beam with the 2 pointers Alpha and Beta Centauri keeping me on the right heading.The sea was the smoothest of the entire voyage thus fare – gentle bulges of silky smooth water.The brightest stars lured on the surreal stillness.The only sound being a plop and swish of the oars and the soft slides of the rowing seat.Then at around 3am it seems the stars grabbed at my oars, in a magnificent display of phosphorescent. As the oars hit the water tiny silvery green droplets moved around them – along with them the entire stroke. It looked like a meteor shower in the water, then as I lifted the the oars and moved forward in the rowing seat, the oars dropped beads of glimmering luminous stars onto the sea, almost mimicking the heavens. I rowed in silence with awe and gratitude for this extraordinary gift. And then it got even better – I heard splashes around the boat, all I could just make out under the three quarter lit moon are millions of white dots.I pulled the oars in, stood up and shone my headlight into the water – it was thousand and thousands or powder blue fish darting about as if in an orchestral dance – I looked closer at the water; krill mega tons of krill like saw dust floating on the water and plummet into the depths as far as my beam of my light will allow to see. Box jelly fish or sea wasp passed by , the four long stinging tentacles trailing behind it – many small prawns were just below the surface, like water skates darting to and fro, as if on a frozen pond. Cucumber shaped jelly fish with small golden beads moving around in their transparent bodies floated by.
It was a feeding frenzy as I’ve NEVER witnessed before.
What has appeared thus far is a pretty lifeless ocean was certainly making up for lost time. I attribute this change due to the various sea mountains in our vicinity as we inch ever closer to the coast. These under water mountains sore up from 4km’s below from as little as 20meters sometimes breaking the surface boasting this huge eco systems the variety now displaying their richness to me on the most incredibly night, priceless gift I will cherish forever. Let us one and all, do all in our power to protect this sacred and fragile home.
Today, the 18th of April we put the parachute anchor. We can’t row because the wind push us backwards. At the moment a ship coming through us and we can’t move anywhere. In the radio with the captain and hopefully we can sort this out soon!