One full day into the trip, and I wake from my galloping bunk to see that the breeze has freshened, and bert is at the helm with a cup of strong black coffee. I'll have some of that myself, and some of the bacon and eggs I smell cooking. I sit on a cushion and watch the sun rise in the sky, watch the sea turn from purple to bright blue, watch a school of porpoise swing in from the South. They take time from their own journey to join ours briefly, alternating to swim in the foreward surge of the bow wave. We watch them dive, leap, spin like corkscrews, and we are as happy to have them as companions as they are to spend some time cavorting with us...

sailing on an ocean
Of syncopated motion
when evening comes we'll rest and thank the day