Don’t like to use the word hate, but Cape Race must be at the top of the list as one of the things least liked by NF sailors.   Winds gusting at 30 knots today means that Come What May sits still in Trepassey – a lovely little town, with its annual summer festival in full bloom.  Reluctant to take it all in unfortunately as must be ready and able to go again TOMORROW morning as the forecast now suggests that that might be doable.

A long leisurely day spent recounting the last three weeks and playing the coulda, shoulda, woulda game and relishing the long awaited return of Alfred and DP – that’s Alfred Lamb’s Palm Breeze Amber Rum for anyone who doesn’t know that (is there any such one?) and diet Pepsi – the first since we ran out way back in PAB a week ago.  Was that really just a week ago?

Cape Race was the closest point to where the Titantic hit that iceberg.  It is known to be the devil to get around.  Analyzing the weather and determining just when to “make a run for it” is becoming something of a crap shoot. Problem is, once there, after 3 hours of sailing, if you don’t like what you see, there’s nowhere to duck into – no safe haven and no where to go but on up the dreaded East Coast or back to Trepassey.  No man’s land……

So you vacillate between thinking you are just a wimp after all and just wanting to go for it, then concerned that in your quest to get home, you may be less inclined to heed the warnings – so you check with all your advisors and they confirm your decision and then you relax again in the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing you can do.  But sit and wait.  Sound like fun?

It actually kinda is – beats housework for sure.  Although a daily pep talk seems to be the norm lately between cap’n and crew.   When life hands you lemons……. Every cloud had a silver lining……..Glass half full……….