Location: Les Saintes
My morning began at 6 am on the last anchor watch, serenaded by an orchestra of chickens from all angles of the vast bay of Portsmouth. Our journey to France then began rather sideways in several way,s such as, but not limited to, leeward heel. Regardless, all obstacles, such as foresail halyard resistance (potentially due to the downhaul being tightly fastened) were felt with promptly as we began to cruise for the distant shadow of Les saints on the horizon. As we entered the archipelago of French territories, much of the crew commented on the beauty of rocks and cliff faces, and although we were very hot, I promise this was not a mere symptom of heat exhaustion. Although we did then go on to argue about why a hole in some rocks disappeared when our angle changed, and for this, I cannot make the same promise. Following this, a historical interlude into ancient cultures and traditions. To complete our day, a small platoon of 2 was sent off to the border control office to request entrance to France and probe the receptiveness of locals to the English language and pinpoint the locations of the islands’ bakeries for tomorrow morning. One of these quests brought avail. Now, as we wash our dishes, our excitement builds for many of our first night dives.