The Atlantic is as flat as a millpond. And with little to do other than eat, read, and listen to music – I am trying fishing.
My efforts usually yield nothing more than a light workout, as the line always weighs the same after pulling it in as it did when it went out. I shall remain optimistic though. I’ve embraced all the advice given. And it’s supposed to be easy to catch a fish out here. Yeah right.
Fortunately we didn’t manage to eat our entire food supplies over the last 30 hours or so, so we are not relying on my fishing skills. We still have eight portions of Cadjupa (bean stew), four portions of Lasagne and at at least eight of Chile con Carne all ready made.
We are now 1849 miles from Barbados, and are continuing to motor along. The flying fish have now been joined by the occasional pod of dolphins. And it is all very nice indeed.

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