In the twilight hours, with the stunsails set, cruising through tropical waters at a leisurely 5 knots, the South Pacific seems too good to be true.  

This morning, the first whale. It’s humpback season and they are curious animals, drawing alongside and then dipping away.  

As the winds died, we brought out the manta trawl to see what lies below our elegant ship- not much- as it turns out. We are in an area of oligotrophy (low nutrients) and little life can be observed floating or soaring about the ship. The whales are here not for food but to breed. Everything else seems to have found more fertile waters.  

As Laurent diligently sorts the sparse catch in search of plastics, Gjalt appears from the galley- perhaps in search of something to cook? He loves the teeming life of the ocean, and he is the first to tell when something is spotted. Today, we poke at almost microscopic violet snails, crowned sea bells algae, and trusty velella velella(by the wind sailor). Our prize catch is a flying fish- a juvenile of about 1 cm in length. Gjalt is impressed, unperturbed by our miniscule catch. 

Later, I clean the library. Its contents tell a story of seafaring, various ships-in-bottles donated over the years, models of traditional sailing vessels from various far-flung lands, and -of course- well-worn, twice-repaired books on everything from albatrosses to rigging. 

Sweating, I go to the poop deck to do the daily bird survey. Sitting with the helmsmen, we see 2 birds in half an hour, or more likely, one bird twice. I look it up. A Tahitian petrel? Its size and straight wings lead me to this identification. I can’t rule out Pheonixpetrel and am still unsure of my tropical Pacific seabirds so the survey sheet will say, ‘unidentified petrel/shearwater’.  

I then revise the plans for Tonga, with Vai, our deckhand/ guide for the area, providing a unique insight into her homeland. Before long, it’s snack time. And soon, it’ll be dinner, then bunkie time. Tomorrow, we will do it all again.