A month since I departed Wellington

A month at sea.

I’m also the closest I’ve been to land in a month.

I’m a few hundred miles south east of the Gambier Islands, with the Tuamotu Archipelago to the north west.

To eyes that are accustomed to the blank white of the British Admiralty Chart with the occasional sea mount or depth indicator, it positively looks more crowded than Pitt street.

For now, no more setting a course and happily running 60 or 70 miles overnight without checking the compass.

I’ve favourable winds for the next few days, and the pilots charts promise that I’m right on the cusp of the south east trade winds. As well as variable winds, I’ve also been running against the westwards side of the massive counter-clockwise Peru current, which I’ve nearly passed.

But it seems to matter less than I thought it might have.

I have seen no external sign of humanity since day 2. No planes, no ships, No oil rigs, no floating rubbish.

What have I discovered in this journey of 5000 kilometres since New Zealand.

No ground-breaking theses of philosophy or knowledge.

Perhaps a greater familiarity with self.

I’ve experienced, but perhaps not understood, many paradoxes.

I’m further away from my family than ever, but never felt closer to them.

My world is an immense landscape of, sometimes deep blue, sometimes green-blue, ocean. But my world is also a ten by three meter cockleshell that is insignificant to its surrounds.

My stimuli has been much limited, but never have I appreciated or been so aware of the stimuli surrounding me.

Never have I been so far away from a destination, but never so rushed to arrive.

Never have I been so aware of my own weaknesses and failings, but never have I been so at peace with the history of my actions.

The list goes on. I think these things are to be experienced rather than understood.

My world changes around me. The wind is sometimes for me, sometimes against me. The current is sometimes favourable, sometimes unfavourable.

The climate is sometime a wild and raging monstrosity, sometimes a gentle nourishing angel.

I yield to what I must, I bend what will bend, and I harness what I can.

In all of this, I continue along to where I’m headed.

Perhaps the only useful advice I have to offer is this. Don’t wait. Do.

The only other advice I have is this: Becalm yourself in the variables with a good book in hand. It soothes the soul.

Latitude: -26.561, Longitude: -137.334, Time: 05:10:52 23-05-2018 UTC