My favorite parts of the day was watching the sun rise and set.... every day- different and beautiful. In the midst of challenge and discomfort, the new horizon would calm our spirits assure us of the promise land!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Eleuthera!
Thank you for all the warm wishes and loving energy everyone sent our way! The stars aligned as the clouds parted and seas rested- creating the perfect window for us to make our final crossings. With a steadfast crew of four we were able to not only navigate our way across the Gulf Stream and the Bahamas, but sit on deck and soak up the sun we have been chasing the past 28 days on board. We are delighted to say that the Fishers Hornpipe is safely resting in ‘Triangle Cut’ near the Island School ready for its next big adventure.
PS- Stay tuned for more photos!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Promised Land - Ashley on the Hornpipe
Even the moon smiles in the Promised Land, I thought to my self sitting on deck looking up at the new moon in the clear sky above the Fishers Hornpipe. The crescent moon rose horizontally, open side up, like a big bright smiley face in the night sky.
We face the south. Every day we move more and more southward, towards the warm air and seas. Every day we leave the north, a little more and a little more. We joke about the idea of the Promised Land. In the Promised Land the wind will be warm and there will be no more rain. We will take off our fat suites: layers of rain proofing, upon layers of wind stopping, upon layers of down insulating our pasty sailor bodies. We will tan our pasty bodies in the sun. The Promised Land is full of majestic creatures like dolphins and manatees and entire islands filled with hundreds of pink flamingos (Rob and Nadine actually claim to have seen the flamingo sight on watch two nights ago, I was sleeping, so I’ll have to take their word for it). When we arrive in the Promised Land we will turn off our constant, twenty four hour a day, orchestra of diesel engine rumble, hum, and growl and put up our sails that will be filled with the breath of the Gods. There will be unicorns; it will be perfect. We will bask in the glory of what has been promised, farther south, somewhere, some day, it will come.
We left Southport, North Carolina with a replaced propeller spinning under our big cement underbelly. We began our longest, most wearisome leg of the journey yet.
We face the south. Every day we move more and more southward, towards the warm air and seas. Every day we leave the north, a little more and a little more. We joke about the idea of the Promised Land. In the Promised Land the wind will be warm and there will be no more rain. We will take off our fat suites: layers of rain proofing, upon layers of wind stopping, upon layers of down insulating our pasty sailor bodies. We will tan our pasty bodies in the sun. The Promised Land is full of majestic creatures like dolphins and manatees and entire islands filled with hundreds of pink flamingos (Rob and Nadine actually claim to have seen the flamingo sight on watch two nights ago, I was sleeping, so I’ll have to take their word for it). When we arrive in the Promised Land we will turn off our constant, twenty four hour a day, orchestra of diesel engine rumble, hum, and growl and put up our sails that will be filled with the breath of the Gods. There will be unicorns; it will be perfect. We will bask in the glory of what has been promised, farther south, somewhere, some day, it will come.
We left Southport, North Carolina with a replaced propeller spinning under our big cement underbelly. We began our longest, most wearisome leg of the journey yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)