In about 20 minutes we'll be taking the sails down as we enter in to the Port Lucie area to refuel, so this will be quick.

We've been off-shore since leaving Charleston on Sunday. The doggone wind has been right on the nose most of the time, with one glorious exception. So we've been motor-sailing quite a bit.

There is a sameness to our surroundings out in the Atlantic until you imagine all the drama going on below the surface as the natural order of things takes place. We get glimpses of it now and then, when a smattering of flying fish pop up foretelling the dolphins sure to be chasing. We don't see dolphins often, maybe once a day, but it is a thrill every time.

I'll admit, there are times when I think: for all the resources it takes to do what we're doing we could be on an African safari, or spend a month at a Ritz with full spa services. Those moments come when the boat is heeled over so far you can't move from one end to the other without slamming into something. Imagine trying to use the head from that position? Those moments also come in the middle of the night, as last night, when the bright lights of a vessel appear to be coming right at us, and the radar tells the same story, and the captain doesn't answer the first VHS call to make sure he sees us. THOSE are the moments when I think: what in the hell am I doing here?

And then, the sun comes up and the sky is blue and the water is gorgeous and all those thoughts evaporate.

There are plenty of untold stories that begin over the VHF radio with distress calls to or from the Coast Guard that we never learn the outcome. Last night Karen on the sailing vessel Dalia, was hailed seven or eight times, with no response. Dalia is a 30' sailboat. Whereabouts unknown.

Here we go.