Written by:
7/30/2012 9:44 PM 

July 20th - Who needs a clock or a compass when you have the heavens?  In just one passing night there is the Southern Cross to show me South, the Big Dipper to show me North, Orion lounging in the East, and Mars still close to Venus in the earliest hours of the morning.  The moon has made itself scarce.  With its absence the rest of the stars in the sky are free to show their full brilliance set against the glowing backdrop of the Milky Way.  Moonless nights are my favorite for offshore passages.

Drinking my coffee in the still black predawn ideas are forming.  Yesterday I crossed the double zero and made my return to the southern hemisphere.  With that return the winds backed away from my bow to the port quarter.  For eight glorious hours I ran with the wind.  As often happens the sun fell from the sky and the winds lost heart.  Motoring through the night I awoke eagerly thinking of turning due South for my destination.  Some small voice is screaming at me, "not yet"!

A friend from the French yacht Eagle gave me an anchorage waypoint 100 miles from here.  It is close to a small harbor and a resort.  My thought is to drop anchor sometime tomorrow and use the time to prepare for a lumpy ride South.  A swim, precooked meals, and the possibility of a few extra gallons of diesel are extremely tempting.  Once the sun is up I'll do another fuel check and decide from there. 
750 miles to Cocos Keeling, Australia.  A wahoo stole my newest fishing lure.  I'll ease the pain by splitting a bottle of champagne with Neptune this afternoon.  Third time shellback.

July 30th - Black tip reef sharks circle the boat.  The anchor is buried deeply in a fine sand.  The water is cool and crystal clear.  It has an ethereal glow in the moonlight making it look like a pliable semi solid substance I want to gather in my hands.  Centuries old trade winds blow through from the East keeping the coconut palms waving above the white sand island called Direction.  Cocos Keeling is a small paradise.

The anchorage has between two and seven boats seeking refuge from the Indian Ocean at any one time.  We are a small community all facing the strong winds and brutal swells that lie between us and Rodriguez Island 2000 miles further West.  We take respite from the winds in this clear blue lagoon surrounded by coral reefs and low lying islands.  We all marvel at the joys of life in a coral atoll.  Conversation naturally turns to the atolls we’ve all left behind in the Pacifc.

Each evening a few boat crews will gather on the beach for a sundowner.  We talk of plans to leave, but no one wants to rush from this place.  There are always boat projects, but there are also new holes to be snorkeled or trails to hike.  Sitting on my new friends boat yesterday the local dive master motored passed to say hello.  The Australian dropped off two dive bottles so that my friends could go diving.  Their own bottles being out of spec and could not be refilled.  “No charge” the dive master yelled as he sped away.  With the coordinates of a local wreck the three of us will be diving later this afternoon.

Compressed air isn’t necessary to enjoy the multitude of life on this reef.  There is a snorkel called The Gap that is unlike any other I’ve experienced.  With my 15hp engine we forced our way through a small channel that leads to the open ocean.  Large breakers and whirling white water were just ahead.  Immediately before we exited the lagoon into the great surf we cut the engine and bailed out of the dingy.  It took me a moment to acclimate to the scenery speeding past my vision in all directions.  The great rip current took us across shallows and depths full of tropical reef fish of all kinds.  Grouper, jacks, triggers, white tip sharks, black tip sharks, and dozens more I can’t even identify tolerated us whizzing through their environment while they sheltered in the lee of coral stones and cliff walls.

Only some seconds later we were out of the current and sweeping more slowly across the sand flats.  Grinning from ear to ear I called out to my companions as they increased the throttle, “again”?  With a subtle nod and resounding, “yeah” we were on our way back to fight and float the rip again.

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