The fishing line snapped free of its clip, jolting Danielle and I to attention, and signalling to us that there’s something on the end of the line. I curse as I realize Farrell is in the bathroom. I have no idea what to done once we get the fish on board. Is there a spear I can hook him with? I pictured the fight I would have shortly with the giant Tuna, Dorado, Marlin? Who knows … as I pull in the line, hand over hand. Finally I see a streak of colour in the water, a flash of yellow and green. Must be Tuna. I do a final tug to get a better picture of him out of the water. I flinch, expecting to lose control of the thin line in my hands. He jumped out revealing that in fact, fish tacos would have to wait another night. I pulled in the tangle of old fishing line and rope realizing my identification error, that the Tuna was in fact some snagged Pacific Ocean garbage like we had been sailing by all day. Looks like it is lentil soup tonight.
Christine’s note: I have been pestering the crew for reports on how it is going with food, water, power, sleeping etc. Looks like I provisioned them with too many carbs (though not enough Farrell cookies.) They are really hoping for some fish! Water is holding well and they have started on their second tank of four. They have run the engine to charge the batteries only a few times. It is quite overcast so the solar panel isn’t working to its max. The v-berth is fine for sleeping as long as the earplugs are in. Night watches are currently 3 hour which has helped to increase rest for the day. Not sure what they were doing before this.
Wind conditions … as requested!