Now we're south of the Tropic of Cancer once more, we're basking in warm Mexican sunshine. Once again the shower at the back of the boat is being kept busy. I road-tested it on Sunday and found the water a trifle bracing, but the distance covered overnight has been enough to see it improved by a few degrees. And the sleeping bags have been put away for a week or so. Last night was really hot, so we're back to sprawling on the bunks with just a towel if anything to cover us.

Of course it's not all good news. We've failed to scoff all the bars of comforting chocolate bought in a supermarket in San Diego before the sudden change in climate. Yesterday's was like tearing off lumps of Plasticine. Today's will probably be dribbling out of the wrapper.

One thing which has become apparent as rising temperatures dictate we have a little more regard to things like washing and shaving, and taking it in turns to peer into my plastic mirror, is that we're all a good deal greyer than when we started out on this little epic. Two and a half months of stress, illness and injury do take their toll!

On a lighter note, the flying fish are back with us again - and these Pacific ones are absolute monsters compared with their Indian Ocean counterparts. We had one slam into the cabin last night, and quite a few sailed over the top!

As far as things cultural are concerned, I regret to report that Robin Cook's "Brain" has been ditched in favour of something else. Whilst on the Nordhavn, we compared notes about our respective types of onboard entertainment, and we mentioned our penchant for Michael Crichton novels. The upshot is that we have another, "Timeline", which we've started on. If nothing else at the end of this trip, I could always get a job doing talking book recordings . . .

Clive Tully

Copyright Clive Tully ©2002
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