Overnight we lost visual contact with Dick, + suspected that we might have lost him altogether (not that we thought he’d sunk, you understand.) However, he came thro’ on the VHF, + after he + Val had taken their noon sights, we altered course to meet him. By no means a sure thing, since positioning by sextant is not an exact science. However, to the amazement of nearly everyone, we spotted each other during the afternoon. (Val had made a small error in her calculations, so he didn’t appear quite where we thought he would but who‘s going to quibble?) And by late afternoon we were together. First he lay to while we sailed past him + he took photos of us, + then we did the same for him. He looked rather prettier than I imagine we did – Blue Moves is an attractively rigged boat, + Doug very rarely sails without two reefs in his main. It’s not easy to get pictures of one’s boat under sail, so this was a great opportunity for both of us. Val didn’t feel too good again today; in fact, she threw up over the side (mostly). Still, she’d recovered sufficiently to cook steak + cauliflower cheese in the evening.
Sounds like I was the one quibbling – a touch of jealousy perhaps? But I am also dropping sailing terms into the account, which is about as close to being a sailor as I am ever likely to get.