Today is day eight at sea
Apart from one vessel on the second night, we are alone in the ocean. There are not even whales or dolphins, only proud petrels soaring boldly and freely astern.
We are crossing 10° south, which means we are leaving the cyclone-danger zone. In the middle of cyclone season in the Southern Hemisphere, that is one problem fewer.
The wind is mostly following. Squalls arrive day and night. Then we have to run around reefing sails, hand-steering and collecting rain from the sails.
Even in what seems to be a stable trade wind we somehow manage to find close-hauled conditions, with the wind on the bow. As with the squalls, spray begins coming aboard through the hatches. They therefore stay mostly closed, because very few beds remain that have not been soaked with salt water, and we have not yet collected enough fresh water for laundry.
The watermaker runs throughout the daylight hours but produces two or three times less fresh water than it should. It consumes electricity exactly as enthusiastically as a healthy watermaker. We have not managed to discover what is wrong.
North of us are two inhabited atolls in the northern Cook Islands. Manihiki has around 240 residents and Rakahanga about eighty. Manihiki is only thirteen miles away, but these atolls are extremely low and we cannot see land from the yacht.
Naturally, we are sailing past. Covid restrictions have not disappeared.
Food
We continue the operation to save the bananas. The second enormous bunch has ripened.
Carrots hardly keep at all. Outside a bag they go limp; inside a bag they turn black.
The pomelos surprised us this time too: we have already thrown away three or four. Their predecessors three years ago lasted all the way to Antarctica.
Potatoes and aubergines are spoiling faster than on our previous tropical voyage. Perhaps it is because all three months in Polynesia were rainy season and the humidity is higher; perhaps these are simply the wrong kind of vegetables.
It is very hot. During the day the air inside is almost unbreathable. That wipes out our efforts to work on video and text. We end up reading a lot while lying on deck beneath the awning.
The awning itself is on its last legs in every possible direction. If only it lasts until the cold latitudes.
During the day Lada and I have gone back to reading *Harry Potter* in the original English. At the same time we quietly finished a packet of natural chips made from sweet potato, carrot and beetroot.
At night I reread Remarque's *The Night in Lisbon*.
Why are we sailing to Russia?
People asked us that question often before. Now they ask it very insistently.
Our home is in Russia. We have been heading there for the last several years. Two years ago the pandemic disrupted our plans. Now they are being disrupted by that which cannot be named.
We have not been home for five years, and since then our mothers have passed eighty. They live alone. Andrey is an only son.
Another reason: visas for foreign countries have a habit of expiring, while new ones may stop being issued. Pandemic restrictions have now been joined by sanctions.
Entering another country illegally in the present political situation is a direct road to prison.
Another reason is money for living. Perhaps not everyone understands that we do not print money on deck. Our “printing press” is in Russia and has needed repairs for a long time.
We set a course for home six months ago partly because we needed to devote serious attention to the business.
Our bank cards, domestic passports and other documents have also expired.
And yes, we know what is happening now…
A response to surprised comments forwarded by the shore team through satellite email
Yes, we know that everything Russians have earned is rapidly turning into a pumpkin.
Since 2013 our income has fallen fourfold because of the rouble exchange rate. We have no source of income abroad.
We know what our government is doing and how many people support it.
Yes, we know about CENSORSHIP too.
N.B. for the aggressive people who apparently have nowhere else to pour their poison except the diary of our voyage
Reasonable people, please do not take this personally.
Whatever the provocations, we are not going to turn a blog about sailing around the world with children into a battlefield for political warfare.
There will be only expedition chronicles here: the sea and the fulfilment of a dream — the bright things worth living for.
I expressed my attitude toward the terrible events now unfolding between two countries that are both native to me on my personal Facebook page, Marina Klochkova Travely-Family.
For now we are closing comments on our posts in the Facebook group and on the YouTube Community tab.
Because people who read with their backside — crossed out — people who cannot read between the lines are drowning even those who support them in their hatred.
Drink some valerian, use your brains, and stop throwing mud at everyone indiscriminately. Better do something useful to help this nightmare end.
And now to the reasonable people
Our dear friends and subscribers on Facebook and YouTube: unfortunately your comments on the chronicles will no longer lift our spirits every morning.
But those who know where to write to us will write.
May peace come, and may the unreasonable regain reason.
Enormous thanks for the warm words of support that continue to reach us. Thank you to Natalia Konrad for an inspiring letter. It matters so much right now.
Thank you to everyone who supports the expedition budget through PayPal and YooMoney. The only names visible to us were Natalia D. and Zhomart A.
Dear women and girls, happy 8 March! Wishing you love, health and PEACE.
On Lady Mary, 8 March will not arrive until tomorrow.
You can find our real-time position under the Route tab. It shows the track from the Rockstar Iridium 360 tracker provided by MVS Telecom.
Sent by satellite on day eight at sea, coordinates: 10°35′ S, 161°11′ W.