Position: N 37° 08' W 042° 24' UTC 1200

Nautical miles left: 660

In the sunny cockpit of Cantare, somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean, four girls were enjoying life. One was behind the wheel, complaining about how cold it was. Girl two and three were stretched out on the benches, one each, and the fourth girl, the last to join, had to sit on the floor. Although there was almost no wind the air felt chilly, memories of the warm West Indies were becoming more surrealistic and the final destination Sweden felt closer. The girls not behind the wheel were somewhat sheltered from the wind and had stripped down to their panties trying to heat their bodies with the sun's help. Inside the boat it was damp and freezing, making it hard to sleep during the nights and leaving a lingering feeling of coldness during the days.

The sisters were comparing how long the hair under their arms had become when Sofia said:

'Catrine, what's that white stuff under your arm?'

Catrine answered calmly:

'It's deodorant for the coming days.'

Swimming around the boat was now almost impossible, the water temperature was well below the recommended 25 degrees, last time the girls checked it was only 19 degrees. Therefore it was not possible to wash oneself daily and extra deodorant was a smart move.

A while later Sofia said:

'What are we having for lunch today?'

Emelie though for a while and answered:

'I'm thinking about a tin of carrots.'

Sofia:

'Could you mix those strange mushrooms with some parmesan for me?'

Emelie:

'Sure.'

Sofia:

'If your not having your bread crumbles could you maybe add them…and some mustard.'

Maria wrinkled her nose and started to discuss her lunch with Catrine. They agreed to split Maria's kidney beans tin and Catrine's green beans tin. They topped it with some parmesan. It was a lot better than it sounded. Sofia claimed that her rather nasty combination was good as well. Life without LPG wasn't that bad. Still, every conversation about what's possible to eat ashore had been banned.

The wind died after a while and the girls were forced to start the engine. Almost 100 motor hours now, will they make it through Azores High before the diesel tank is empty? To be continued… / The Captain