34.29.8'N x 63.44.0'W

By Matthew Maples

Our weekend stay in Bermuda seemed too short, though it was as sweet as could be expected - sun-dappled streets of pastel houses, turquoise-water beaches, and of course, the rum! I feel I speak for more than a few when I say that I was not looking forward to our Monday departure.

However, as we sailed to the north-east of the island after leaving the port of Hamilton, our crew enjoyed a pasta dinner on the main-deck as our topsails carried us along Bermuda's coastline - a whirl of color from its houses, trees, sunset sky and water. A light breeze, a great dinner and a fantastic view to match (It is just like it is in the brochures!). As the lime-stone roofs of Bermuda lazily drifted by I realized how lucky we are to be on a tall ship to enjoy times like this. We could have put up more sail, but I think we were enjoying going a bit slower this time - to make it last.

As we rounded the north-east corner of the island, we could see some flags waving to us from the grim-gray stones of Fort St. Catherine.

Closer inspection with the binoculars revealed them to be some of our departing voyage crewmembers, among them Lucy Hollis and Alexander Schiewart, bidding us farewell and fair winds. Their enthusiasm was returned likewise by Europa's mighty foghorn. On Monday Lucy stopped by on her scooter to say goodbye to us at least four times - she obviously enjoyed her second voyage on Europa and will miss us, as we will miss our crew who left in Bermuda. Among them many who were with us since Panama, strangers then, but friends now.

We also had to bid farewell to our good first mate, Marteyn Blok, his characteristic coffee-guzzling, his ever-present "Sardus!" T-shirt, and most of all, his awesome teaching skills. He must have missed us as well, for we soon received an email from him from Bermuda's airport, lamenting their lack of a lounge and telling us that he misses us already. He goes on now to be the second mate on the Norwegian square-rigger Sorlandet. The mate's position is now being filled by Harko Lambarts.

Today saw us begin our morning with clouded skies, with gray seas rolling like a slate tile roof rippling in an imagined earthquake.

White swells came from behind as we sailed downwind - a "rolly" course, but enjoyable as we made about 6.5 knots. The dour, rainy weather has annoyed our cook, Rensje, as she greatly prefers meals served on deck in sunny weather. She has made sure to wake me up with "grumbly" news about rain on deck again. For the first time since the tropics the crew has donned hoodies, jackets, boots and foul weather gear - this will be the new norm I suppose, and our shirtless days of endless sun and jacket-less nights are in our wake. All this rain isn't so bad, as long as we are sailing in it, I think.

The starboard watch after us however, got to enjoy an afternoon of motoring and rain as sails were taken in - apparently our fun morning of sailing was in vain because it is too far off our course, past Nova Scotia.

We needed to head higher into the wind. Captain Vos says that we will make what distance we can until an expected breeze from the southwest in a day or so can relieve our hard-working engines.