Bermuda to Azores | Day 12

It's a new day! After some much-needed rest, I am on my first watch of the day—the 12 pm to 2 pm timeslot—while everyone else sleeps below.

We were still in the front all day yesterday. The winds held steady at 30 knots, and the waves remained 10 to 13 feet. But now they were coming from behind us, pushing us forward rather than slamming into us broadside.It was far more relaxing than Day 11’s harrowing events.

I am watching the waves rise with white-foamed peaks, then crash over in eruptions of white foam. It reminds me of an Alaskan mountain range—snow-covered peaks surrounding you as far as the eye can see.

But these wave-mountains aren't static; they're fluid. There is a peaceful, rhythmic nature to their movements—a kind of melodic chaos. If the waves were part of a symphony orchestra, they would be the cymbals, crashing against one another at the crescendo. They are the exclamation point that the musical score has been building toward.

I keep trying to capture it with my phone camera, but I can't. I'm sure a skilled photographer with the right equipment could, but that isn't me. So I searched for photos that might help convey what I see. I found one or two, but they still don't do it justice. I also looked for pictures of snow-capped mountains, and while some came closer, they weren't quite right either. I suppose some things cannot be captured or replicated—they can only be experienced.

It's so beautiful and full of glory, and yet it can be so violent and chaotic. It reminds me of the human condition: an amalgamation of beauty and brokenness, virtue and vice.

Yesterday, I began putting the boat back together and cleaning every area where saltwater had intruded—though that will take time. I'll need to pull out all our clothes, sort what got wet from what didn't, and launder them. Saltwater never truly dries, and over time, it starts to smell. I'll also need to go through every cabinet, pull everything out, wipe it all down, and put it back. It's frustrating, for sure, but it's part of the life we live.

Today, the winds have lessened significantly, and the seas have too, though they remain quite rolly. The dilemma we face over the final few days is not having enough wind—ha! It's truly feast or famine. Remedy's bow is pointed straight at Horta. We are sailing wing-on-wing—mainsail out to port and headsail held on a pole out to starboard—making about 3.9 knots. Lighter winds over the coming days will slow our progress considerably, but we will figure it out and get there… eventually.

In the meantime, we will enjoy the journey, continue catching up on rest, and take in the beauty of God's creation all around us.

All is well!

Day Eleven Stats
Nautical Miles Sailed In The Last 24 Hours 144

Average Boat Speed 6.0 kts

Max Boat Speed 9.7 kts

GPS Coordinates 35 10.116N 35 26.677W

Miles to go: 384—around 2 and ½ days (this is contingent on us being able to continue sailing straight toward our destination)