We left New York on Sunday. There were red hats and speedos, hugs and Columbia reporters. Now we are in Newport, Rhode Island awaiting a weather window through which to jump to Bermuda.
Dolphins
I have recently been informed that, "the dolphins get old quickly", but I regret to inform the aforementioned informer that I indeed get exceptionally excited about the smallest of details. Dolphins are huge! I was alone at the wheel, staring off into the great empty blue when the shimmer of a black fin made an abnormal movement between the waves. Before I could shout, "hey sleepyheads, dolphin sighting! DOLLLLLPHIIIIN" I saw 10 or 20 more dart around from starboard to port and at the bow. They frolicked about and I stood there, steering gleefully and smiling like an idiot.
Paul came up to tell me the new heading and I left him at the wheel while I "communicated" with the "sea life" at the bow. This involved sitting up there crooning, "Hey there! Hey you! Oh cool. Oh wow, this is neat!! Oh look at you! Hey there! Hey guys, hey I see you!!"
They responded, "We're going to swim away now because you're only going 6 knots and we can swim faster than that. Goodbye."
I said, "Okay, I understand. Thanks for visiting."
Other news:
I poured out two Ibuprofen to find the bottle cap was coated in diesel fuel. Upon further inspection, it appears that there is an overflow hose that stops temporarily in one of the head cabinets. It leaked and spilled fuel into the top shelf. Luckily, my super-special-bio-degradeable awesome-5 billion-dollar-an-ounce-whole foods tampons were stored on the bottom shelf at the time. WHEW. Anyway, this is a relatively easy fix, so it's not a big deal. However, the smell of diesel is starting to get a wee bit obnoxious.
The life at sea thus far:
Today we took the first shower in about a week. It's kind of like backpacking in that way.
Aaron and I played the "real fart noise or fake fart noise" game. That's always a winner. If you're outside, that is.
I'm going to have such low expectations for marriage. It's going to be awesome. Assuming the guy is completely cool, smart, funny and rad, I'll pretty much be able to handle everything else. Such as: general stinkiness, the inability to look out for one's safety and well-being, inability to communicate about emotions, and the ability to stop eating chocolate for no reason at all. I'm not saying any of these things are relevant to these guys. God, no.
