5 miles off of Salisbury, Dominica

Heading due south toward Martinique. Under full sail plus engines, as we must make landfall by sunset at 1830 hrs. Sistership Impala has chosen a routing closer to the coast to take advantage of lift from a rain systen to our west, but so far our strategy is working. Impala left the cruise ship dock a half hour ahead of us after taking on water. We are gaining on them!
A parrot landed in the avocado tree as we were sauteeing dorado fish at. Mike and Daria's house up on the mountain. It is on a plateau 2000 feet above Rouseau, overlooking the sea

At anchor in Portsmouth, Domenica

Starting to think about cooking dinner. Chicken satay with peanut sauce, rice and peas, salad with garlic croutons, green beans vinagrette. But first another rum cocktail while Debra and I enjoy some alone time while the other crews are on expedition up the Indian River.

Arrived Dominica

Five hour passage from Iles-des-Saintes. Found a fishing poles in a dusty bin of a toy store; tried 3 different lures without luck yet.
Anchoring last night major pain; tried 9 times before another yacht got us connected with a mooring ball.

Position N1608.08W61 31.44

Sailing to Iles des Saintes in 15 knots of wind, doing 5 knots over ground. Carib beer should receive the Nobel Prize for the Refreshment category.

At 35,000 feet off the Georgia coast

Flying never ever seems to lose its ability to inspire awe. Even flying commercial, I love the chaotic logistics of getting planes pushed back from the ramp, lining up for departure. Tractors, trucks, aircraft, linemen all in motion, all working, all doing their part to get these planes loaded, moving, and unloaded.
Take-off is the best part of commercial flights; landing is the best if I am the pilot. On airliners I love staring out the window as the two dimensional world suddenly acquires a third axis as individual cars, buildings, streets slowly give way to highways, rivers, towns and suddenly the open ocean.
The flight attendants are a scream. Four of them are super nice and friendly. The fifth one served our row. Face like a prune left out in the sun and gone sour. She asks the guy sitting between me and Debra what he wants to drink. He says "yes" Bad move. "Yes, WHAT?!" She snarls back. The other stewardess shakes her head, laughs and looks to us in sympathy. We are a little afraid to move until the Prune has stalked on to her next charge. Debra staunches the flow of condensate running from the A/C onto the dude in the middle seat, and suddenly She-who-must-not-crossed has returned, now bearing a tray of trash. She sets it down, and accuses Debra of having requested a kosher meal. Debra denies it, but is forced to accept it until steward turns up with a vegetarian meal looking to trade it for a kosher. Vindicated, Debra peels the cover of her (now correctly ordered) vegetarian meal to find a chicken BBQ sandwich staring at her.
The vegetarian chicken meal was recycled up in first class, debra gave her now-sugar free meal components to the diabetic guy between us, I finished my OJ and now I better put this device away before Cranky SuperPrune discovers me.

Travel tummy

Why is it that when you arrive at the airport, starving, none of the food lloks good enough to actually eat?

T minus 19

I forgot to pack sunglasses. If I squint for ten days I might look like Mr. Magoo by the time I return.

Off to sea again

I am so excited that I am bouncing off the walls like the square dot in a game of Pong! Departing Friday for San Juan again, and then taking a 42 foot catamaran on to Guadeloupe, Domenica and Martinique. Packed all the crucial items: one pair of shorts, two t-shirts, pirate flag, radio, and canned tuna. Good to go for a couple of weeks!