The Ibuprofen Error -- Many people have asked us, “What do you do out there all day on that little boat?” Having just left a full-time job and a life that had me racking up too many miles on my car each month, in stark contrast to life on this boat, I totally understand the question.

Each day out here is segmented by either on-watch or off-watch. On-watch means you’re keeping an eye out for ships and trouble … maybe cooking, cleaning, even a bit of reading between lookouts. The person off watch is usually trying to sleep, but when that quota has been met for the day, other odd jobs can fill the time.

Sail changes seem to eat up time, as does maintenance to every little thing on board. Today the radar needed attention because it kept saying “No heading pulse,” which meant it was giving us a peek at the world around us but not necessarily right-side-up. Bruce had to climb the mizzen rigging armed with tools, unbolt the beast and lower it to the deck. He took the radar apart and we stared at it for a while, not knowing what was wrong or how to make it right.

Yesterday we tithed our last peanut butter cup to Neptune in an attempt to change the weather … and it worked! We figured, why not try it on the radar? I took two pieces of rock red candy and passed them ceremoniously around the ailing unit three times (three’s a good number, right?), hoping for a miracle fix. Miracle fixes are famous on Woodwind. We celebrate each one that comes our way.

Bruce bolted the dome back to the bottom tray, hauled it back to the top of the mizzen mast and re-tied the ropes and cords that keep it there. Back down for the test, and ... it worked! Let’s hope we don’t run out of candy.

A few days ago, just after our first duel with bad weather, we ripped the boat apart looking for the jumbo bottle of Ibuprofen we knew was on board. Headaches are frequent out here, brought on by broken sleep and violent motion. Also, in bad weather we forego our caffeine consumption, which can also cause a headache.

During a mega-provisioning trip to Costco in May, Bruce grabbed a double jumbo-pack of Ibuprofen. It seemed an excessive quantity, so I scoffed at him and convinced him to put it back, promising to get a small bottle later. After combing though every conceivable locker, nook, cranny and hole on Woodwind, we came up with only a half-empty mini-bottle, with a total of 15 capsules to last us until Panama. I was doubly disappointed, because I hadn’t followed through on my promise and it took the rest of the day to put the boat back together.

Each day somehow melts into the next. Some slip by quickly … those are generally the tame days. Others -- the ugly weather days -- seem to last a week. Somehow we manage to keep ’em full as the miles move under us, inching ever closer to Panama.

Tomorrow the Spanish lessons begin, which just might be the next headache coming our way!