THE BOMBARDIERS.

Warning to the reader.

In order to fully experience this post put on your earbuds, download Vasco Rossi’s “I’m Still in a Coma” and turn up the volume to the max.

This is how they shy in the middle of the Pacific.

Vasco’s rock guitar gives me the right charge to face a pitch-black sea.

The stars and moon are hidden by a vast disturbance that makes the sea roar with gusty winds up to 25 knots and formed waves that I estimate between 3 and 4 meters.

The wide upwind gait allows me to cut through waves with speeds close to 11 knots.

In the middle of the Pacific, boats serve as hotels for albatrosses.

During the day they follow us, flying above us to hunt for the flying fish floating above the water harassed by JK’s hull, at night they use us as a resting station.

Because of the amount of “poop” they constantly rain down on us, we renamed these birds “bombers.”

JK’s black sails are now a Punchinello outfit.

Tonight there are 5 bombers squatting on the bowsprit, the extreme part of the boat’s bow.

Their presence makes this night at the helm even stronger and more compelling.

JK without moon and stars sails shrouded in total blackness.

The bow slams into the waves and turns them into mirrors of water on which, illuminated by the red and green bow lights, reflect the silhouettes of albatrosses.

I am still in a coma it is over but the night is long and I will spend it in the company of bombers and other rock guitars in the dark of the ocean sky.