Calamity has left us alone. For future reference, she really likes wool socks. Mel still has the other one in case another sacrifice is needed later. Of course, sacrificing the remaining sock of a pair is a little less generous than the first sacrifice, so Mel might throw in an old bra for good measure.

We have adapted to life aboard. No one on board is seasick, including the cat. Mel can even read now, something she normally can’t do on just car trips. At this point she braces her butt against the counter to cook without thinking. Her hands know where the nearest grab points are for the unexpected big wave. She also knows when the moon rises and sets and what phase it should be in, something she didn’t pay attention to much before. She has started to awaken just before the alarm goes off for her three hour shifts (sometimes.) Even her hair has stopped freaking out and fluffing up all over the place. Well, as much as it can, anyway.

Unfortunately her leg muscles have also adapted to not moving much by becoming deconditioned. “Deconditioned” is the medical term for “out of shape.” She is going to start her Jillian Michaels workout again, with a few modifications because her floor is constantly moving and there isn’t a lot of room. No tree pose, thank you. On the boat, tree pose becomes “clumsy loud cricket” pose. Too bad you can’t see Mel work out like this. It’s hilarious.

Boat stuff: 156 nm in 24 hours. We are currently motorsailing with just the jib, waiting for more than 12 kts of true wind. Wind is between 90-120 degrees. The waves have calmed a bit, with more 4 footers than 6 footers, and they are mostly astern. We seem to be in some sort of shipping lane, going a bit south of our rhumb line for better winds, and we saw 3 tankers or cargo ships in the last 3 hours. The “Track” mode on our autopilot is working at the moment, which makes life pretty easy. We are going to watch “The Magnificent Seven” and drive the boat with our iPads tonight.

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