The morning finds FRAM dancing across the sea; a little swell has formed over night, and finally we get a bit of the feeling to be on a very, very large ocean.
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Fortunately, everybody has spent a considerable amount of time on board now and thus developed their "sea legs", hence no case of sea sickness. Yet.
Temperatures have dropped a little, air and sea, giving us a taste of what it is going to be like when we proceed further and further south.
We take this as a reminder to prepare for Antarctica. As we travel down from the northern hemisphere we absolutely want to (and have to) avoid to bring foreign species to the wrong places. That means cleaning, washing, and disinfecting of our gear, namely the muck boots and the emergency bags.
The timid call for possible volunteers among the guests finds an unexpected echo: No less than ten of them grab brushes and cloths and attack the boots with vigor, so that after not even two hours the bulk is done.
In the meantime the emergency suits and rations are checked, repacked, the bags equally treated or replaced by new ones.
And the best part: This was FUN! Thank you all so much!
After so much excitement the rhythm eases out towards the evening. After nightfall there are a few lights on starboard: It's an offshore oilfield, some 50 miles away from Brazil. Normally no big event, but seeing a man-made installation after so many days all alone out there brings a strange feeling of company.
The rest is sheer coziness: While some do Norwegian needlework, there is movie night for the others.
Indeed, the pace at sea is a different one.
