This is our last full day and night at sea. Tomorrow, we'll be tied up in the marina in Tahiti, and I'll be turning off the engines for the last time. The main and headsail will be dropped and stowed away, and I won't be touching the sheets or halyards again. It feels peculiar to think that Namarie and I have kept each other safe throughout this incredible journey, and in a few days, I'll be on a plane heading home.
On this yacht delivery Namarie and I started in the Bay of Biscay and headed south into the Atlantic, getting to know each other along the way. We made a brief stop in the Canary Islands, our last contact with Europe before heading further south and leaving footprints in the red dust of Cape Verde. We left West Africa behind and headed further west across the Atlantic, dodging hurricanes and grabbing fuel and provisions in the southern end of the Caribbean. From there, we pushed onwards through the Caribbean Sea to Panama and the canal.
Pretty soon after, we continued west towards the Galapagos Islands in the Pacific before heading south over the equator into the South Pacific, keeping the trade winds behind us as we chased sunsets and adjusted the clocks backwards every now and again as we followed the sunset.
Throughout this journey, we've faced numerous challenges, including midnight squalls, the effects of environmental pollution from commercial fishing, boat maintenance at sea, a never-ending plague of flying fish, interrupted sleep patterns due to constant watches (especially challenging with only two people on board), tons of bureaucracy, and the constant reminder that Namarie must look as though she just came out of the factory when she arrives in Tahiti.
When you consider all of these factors, along with the daily stress of trying to come up with interesting blog content that has pushed my creative limits beyond their breaking point, it's amazing that we even left La Rochelle in the first place.
Me - being chased by a cyclone a few years ago.
