Nobody likes a Whiner

Easter Island to Pitcairn/Gambiers - Day 6
Pacific Ocean - 26 41.3S 122 08.6W

It is very easy for the blog to become a place for us to complain about the 30 knot winds, or the 10' seas, or the rolling that makes your legs ache after constant bracing for 48 hours, but really who are we kidding. While we are down here, having our grand adventure in the tropics (actually we are not in the tropics right now which is the whole reason we keep going through the fronts and lows, but you get the point), you, our readership are toiling away through the remainder of winter and the beginning of mud season, a time of year our non-new england readers will thank their lucky stars they are not familiar with, going about your business, working all day (well, not all day, as the great Christopher Walken said in my favorite SNL skit...."I work, part of the time. There are whole periods of the day where all I do is sleep. It is quite absurd really") and dreaming of travels to the far off reaches of the south pacific or wherever it is you transport yourself to in your minds eye as a distraction from what we all call "everyday life".

This trip of ours is anything but everyday life. Everyday is different and unique. Today I discovered that if I place 4 pillows around my body in a square, one under my head, one under my rear, and one on each side, real close, I can have quite a nice and relaxing nap without rolling all over my bed. I also had the pleasure of having a perfectly clear blue sky, a blue that when we finally get some Internet you will see in the sky above Easter Island, and a blue sky we only see back home on those cold fall afternoons when there is not a bit of moisture in the air. This amazing blue sky is reflected in the most cobalt blue seas one can imagine. So while we bob around on own little island, trying to pass the slow miles between impossibly distant islands, we at least have one of the most amazing things to just stop and look out upon. Endless blue, both above and below with wisps of white (right now quite a bit more than wisps due to the high winds, but again you get the point) from the waves on the sea and the clouds in the sky, and as uncomfortable as I may be, I can't think of a place I would rather be (OK, maybe an idyllic little anchorage, surrounded by coral reefs teeming with colorful fish and white sandy beaches with hula girls beckoning me to join them, but again, I am trying my best to be positive here).