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Crossing the line

With a lot of setting sails and pulling lines we’ve made it across the big one: the equator. 

On my way south I sat in a plane from Amsterdam to Cape Town, without much ado we flew across Equatorial Guinea and crossed the equator; no ceremony or a round of drinks, business as usual. This time all is different, with raised expectation and excitement many of us observe the countdown of the arc-minutes. There is a resemblance to a new years eve party in the wheelhouse, except for the mid-winter climate, oliebollen and champagne of course. Instead we have tropical warm trade winds, midnight-snackies and shots of rum, you get the idea. The last “arc-seconds” are ticking away. . 4 . 3 . 2 . 1, with a blast on our gargantuan Airhorn we announce our entry to the northern hemisphere. Timing is everything, we cross precisely at watch change: 2 AM, the bartender knows what to do! Cheers!

From now on the shower will drain counter clockwise again, the weather systems we’ll experience will show their familiar characteristics, backing winds will be backing and veering winds will be veering; northern hemisphere normality has been restored! The coming 22 days we’ll just sea see, the first and last stop, except for mandatory swim stops, this voyage: Horta – Acores – Portugal. Won't there be anything that will have changed? Well…. Somewhere in the coming days Neptune will visit the ship, and I’m very curious to hear the crimes and punishment of the pollywogs that will be brought to trial….mwohahaah Davy Jones

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