The other night a friend invited me over for dinner – and emailed me
afterwards to tell me in mouthwatering detail what he had cooked for me.
It was a real dinner, but it was in Hawaii and I was here, so I just had
to enjoy it vicariously.

So now it is time for me to return the hospitality, and I thought I
would share it with you too.

Let's overlook the logistical difficulties of you getting to my boat. I
don't think cabbies come out this far. ("300 miles southwest from
Hawaii, second on the left, then just past the third wave on the
right"). Let's just assume that you're here. I greet you on board – "I
hope you've got your sea legs – the boat is a bit tippy."

I've put on clothes specially for the occasion. I haven't worn a stitch
since Day 2, but a naked chef is a bit offputting, so I've dressed for
dinner.

Dinner, by the way, is served at 2.30 in the afternoon. That's the time
when the sun sneaks around the side of my sun canopy and seriously
starts to bake me, so I eat then and retreat to the cabin for a
post-dinner digestive siesta until the most intense heat of the day has
passed.

I show you to your seat. You get the rowing seat – I spend more than
enough time there as it is – and I sit on top of the liferaft, facing
you.

Now, I have to warn you, I look on my ocean sojourns as an opportunity
for a detox. So I eat very healthily out here. I like the food, but it
may not be to everybody's taste, and it's certainly not the kind of
indulgent foods that I would cook for you if you came to dinner on dry
land. And I run a dry ship – so no booze. Also very unlike the
hospitality I would offer on dry land. So please make allowances…

Most of my onboard meals are really just snacks – I eat 7 or 8 of them
in a day – but this one is the only one that can reasonably be called a
square meal. (Can anybody tell me why a meal is square, rather than
round or triangular?)

I open up my galley locker and take out a jar of bean sprouts, harvested
fresh from my sprouting pot this morning. I put a few spoonfuls in a
bowl, add a couple of scoops of tahini, a dash or ten of nama shoyu
sauce, and a good handful of tamari almonds and sunflower seeds. I give
it a stir. And open up a tub of rawfood crackers.

"Ta da!" I say. "Dinner is served. Sprouts Sauvage with crackers on the
side – buckwheat veggie crackers or falafel – take your pick."

"Hmmm," you say. "It looks very….brown."

"Loads of good stuff," I say. "Enzymes, vitamins, minerals, and loads of
fiber. Keeps you regular!" Too much information, I can tell. I
apologize.

"What would you like to drink?" I say. "I've got water – salt or plain."

You look dubious.

"Only kidding." I say. "I've only got plain water. But you can have salt
water if you like. I've got an oceanful." I hand you a Nalgene bottle of
water. "No ice, sorry."

We eat. I really enjoy the nutty, wholesome goodness of the food. You're
not convinced. Or maybe it's just the seasickness kicking in. The boat
is pitching and rolling so you have to hang onto your bowl of sprouts.
And you're looking a little bit green – and I don't mean in the
environmental sense.

The meal over, I raise my Nalgene bottle to propose a toast. "To absent
friends," I say. And, looking around at my deserted deck, I realize
that's all of them. Sigh!

Other Stuff:

Solid progress today – 29 miles according to my logbook, which may not
be the same as the RozTracker. Apparently there have been some issues
with the position reports from my beacon since the water got rougher –
as the boat tips, the beacon finds it harder to lock onto a satellite
for long enough to send the signal – but hopefully it is working better
now.

No boobies for several days now. I almost miss my poopy friends. To
paraphrase Oscar Wilde, if there's anything worse than being pooped on,
it's being not pooped on.

Fewer plunges overboard recently. It's still just as hot, but my poor
sore bum doesn't take kindly to the saltwater. (Even applying tea tree
oil to my nethers brings on all kinds of bad language and
"ayyyyayyyyyayyy" kind of wailing.) So I keep a bucket of fresh water at
the ready and sluice all necessary parts of my body in that from time to
time.

IPhone application – I can now confirm that this is definitely called
the RozTracker, and is available for free download from the iTunes
Store. So now you can keep up to date with my progress when you're on
the move – because obviously I move just SO fast (??!) that you wouldn't
want to miss a thing!

Weather report:

Position at 2030 HST: 17 24.647N, 162 20.334W
Wind: 8-10kts E
Sea: 3-4ft swell from E
Weather: few small cumulus clouds – not enough, in my view! I love the
relief from the heat when a small cloud covers the sun…

Weather forecast, courtesy of weatherguy.com:

The easterly trade winds have temporary calmed a bit to the 10kt range,
but will regain strength on the 11th. Seas moderating to 4-6ft increase
again to 6-8ft.

Forecast below is for a SWerly course.
Date/Time HST Wind kts Seas (ft)
09/1800-10/1500 E-ENE 10-15 4-6
10/1500-11/0600 E-ENE 12-17 5-7
11/0600-15/0000 E-ENE 15-20 6-8

Sky conditions most clear and sunny with very not much chance of rain
showers.

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