It just runs and runs. We've had it turning at 2000 RPMs for the last 26 hours and we're making 5 knots. Even more than the Baja, this is the most dangerous crossing, but tonight it looks just like a lake without enough wind to propel us at all. I was hoping to send some hairy dispatches describing our level of heel, how the waves were crashing over the bow, the wind was howling in the rigging and everyone was sick (but me). Truth is - this is a lame pony ride. I guess I'll count my lucky stars (literally, gorgeous Milkyway tonight), and cross my fingers that the Papagayo crossing just before I meet my family In Costa Rica goes as smoothly.
Against The Momma's advice we got into the hootch (jugo de durazno y tequila) and are setting up for a couple episodes of South Park in the cockpit. It's just too hot in the cabin and the night air is delicious this far from land. What? You don't think I should be drinking? I got a little too lit in Puerto Escondido and when I tried to apologize the next day my new friend Corey said, "For what? You're a sailor." I like that a lot.