Suwarrow Atoll is 736 miles away in a straight line and is still the object of the crew's secret longing. Suwarrow, as it is called on world charts — agree that the name has been distorted almost beyond recognition — belongs to the northern group of the Cook Islands, an archipelago and self-governing state in free association with New Zealand.
Suwarrow Atoll was discovered on 17 September 1814 by an expedition of Russian sailors under Mikhail Lazarev aboard the vessel *Suvorov*. From April to November two rangers live there. For cyclone season they go home, leaving Suwarrow uninhabited for half the year.
Even earlier on our route, only 450 miles ahead, stands another Cook Islands atoll: Palmerston. We do not even dream about that one. Unlike Suwarrow, Palmerston has a population of about sixty, so we will not try. In our former life we did want to visit it, because Palmerston has an extraordinary history. We will tell that story next time, when we fly past it like plywood over Paris. Yes, the Cook Islands remain locked with a giant pandemic padlock.
Daily routine, films and literature
Over the past week a peculiar routine has settled aboard: late breakfast with a documentary, then laptop time, preparation of a combined lunch-and-dinner, almost-evening exercises, a group board game, dinner, and a feature film.
Yesterday we finished the 2013 *Sherlock Holmes* mini-series with Panin as Watson and Ingeborga Dapkūnaitė as Mrs Hudson. We watched it in one breath even though it breaks the familiar pattern completely. As fans of the classic *Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson*, we appreciated the fresh idea: suppose this is what really happened, while the version you have known since childhood was merely the literary retelling.
In the morning we watched the film *War. This Is Chechnya*, unexpectedly also featuring Ingeborga Dapkūnaitė. A heavy feeling stayed with us for the rest of the day. It is strange that people still want to fight wars.
The deckhand has finally taken up Jules Verne. Two years ago she could not get through it. Now she talks enviously about the *Duncan* making seventeen miles an hour — Lady Mary averages four or five. — Mum, they have only just left Glasgow and they are already saying they will be at Cape Horn in five weeks! If only we could do that. I wish I were on the *Duncan*. — There you go, darling. Now you understand why I wanted to be on the *Duncan* too, I laugh. — In that sense our voyage is three or four times harder than theirs. What we are doing is not what I dreamed of at all :).
Food and romance
We break up the daytime with romantic walks onto the deck: adjust the sails and solar panels, nibble sunflower seeds, or read in the sun for fifteen minutes so our skin can get used to it.
Yesterday we made dough and baked apple pies — a proper feast. The wind had been pretending to be a trade wind and blew steadily from the east for about a week. It has stopped now, though. It will turn northerly and once again we will be sailing the wrong way.
The captain threatens to put the fishing line out so we can dry another batch of fish before the current one runs out. The rest of us are trying to talk him out of it: — Give us a few days to recover. I have only just finished scrubbing the fish-soup pot.
The large tuna we caught recently turned out to be so fatty that after the soup the grease on the walls of the pot practically turned into plastic. Neither Fairy washing-up liquid nor baking soda could shift it. Only boiling it with soda finally worked, and not immediately. Next time, apparently, we will make the soup from the flesh rather than the head.
Great-circle course versus actual distance, and the weather
The captain calculated the great-circle route and the distance actually covered according to the log. The difference is almost 1,200 miles on a great-circle distance of 3,500 miles. In other words, all these zigzags make us sail roughly one third farther. If we could stretch the thread of our track into a relatively straight line, we would already be at the equator instead of 25° south.
In another 2.5 degrees we will cross the Tropic of Capricorn and officially enter tropical waters.
The weather break appears to be ending. The wind has turned against us and will strengthen by night, so we will once again be fighting into twenty knots of headwind. A storm is due in two days. The farther north we can slip before it arrives, the weaker the wind that reaches us, but it is hard to make much northing against a headwind.
On that optimistic note, hugs to all of you and fair winds! Thank you for staying with us. Your comments support us enormously and make us happy. Thanks to our shore team, Sergey Yakubenko and Yulia Galushina, for sending comments from social media and YouTube.
By the way, anyone waiting for a postcard from Tasmania — please tell us in the comments whether it arrived. A couple of people have already written to say theirs did.
Hugs! Sent by satellite from 25°30′ S, 162°51′ W.
Heartfelt thanks to the wonderful people who contribute to the ship's fund through YooMoney and PayPal. Thank you for becoming part of the project! To see where we are now, open the Route tab. It shows Lady Mary's track from the Rockstar Iridium 360 tracker provided by MVS Telecom.