Sail Agora

I write this in the cockpit, my iPad on my knees, the gentle purr of our recently installed fixed blade propeller doing its part to slowly wear out the packing gland. Its a warm night, the first that Steph and I have had since we left (though she wouldn’t notice being asleep down below, wrapped in layers). We’re making 6 knots in less than 15 knots of breeze. I even flattened the main to try to slow us down. Moved the track to leeward a bit, then sheeted in a bit, then repeated the process: nice and easy so she stays well trimmed. Chief, our autopilot, is steering the boat, but hasn’t moved in a couple hours. We are balanced, making good time in calm seas. I couldn’t be happier. 

Made my way to the bow a couple times to watch the never ending magic of bioluminescence. We’re passing through massive schools of fish tonight, which appear as giant bulbous stains of light. They shatter into hundreds of tiny scattering streamers as we pass, all electric blue. Occasionally something bigger swims by. The mystery leaves much to the imagination. Nothing quite compares to dolphins on the bow, however. They appear in the distance like shooting stars, and align themselves to your course with a type of grace unmatched by any other creature on the planet. They crisscross their wakes, tron-like, encased in light that illuminates their eyes and coloring and even battle scars, trailing off their fins like wind off of wings. If you haven’t seen this, know that you should, because it is one of the wonders of the world. 

On top of all that are the stars. More than I’ve ever seen. The Big Dipper is a pincushion, its brightest stars interconnected by a thousand others. And they make it to the horizon line. Imagine that. 

It’s this combination of glowing sea and glowing sky that makes our first overnight passage a definite highlight. One for the books. Sometimes I can’t quite tell on which medium we’re traveling. Sea, or stars? Truth is it’s both. As we make our progress in our little boat on this little planet by way of Bernoulli’s effect we watch the world turn below us. And the sky turns above us in tandem. We sail away, in a sea of stars. 

Post script: Steph and I kicked back in some lounge chairs on the bow, sipping hot chocolate amd watching the biological light show float by. We’d been up there for a bit and we’re hoping for dolphins. Steph had never seen them at night, and I’d gotten her hopes up to no avail. She apologized for not getting me an anniversary gift. “Y’know that’s a real bummer,” I said, “ cuz there’s one thing I really really wanted. Dolphins on the bow.”

And at exactly that moment a dolphin came swimng over, doing spins and twirls as it danced in the pressure wave from Agora. 

Thanks Steph!