Patching the Sails.........

(The problem with blogs... is... they're chronologically listed from most recent to first... if you're here for the first time, it's gonna be kinda like starting to watch a soap opera in mid-season... we've been following the journey of Reid and Soanya, aka "the professor and MaryAnne"... 12 days ago they set out in a 70' schooner to attempt a world record 1,000 continuous day non-stop sail around the globe (thrice).. the current world record is 600+ days... Oh yeah, Reid is 55, Soanya is 23.)...It's kinda fun to follow them.. their website is 1000days.net

From their blog today:

"The day began calm with a nice sunny breeze. Reid decided to work on patching the sail that he accidentally tore while putting a reef (tying the sail shorter) in during one of the previous storms. He figured since he had to patch the sail, he might as well do it Reid style and cut the shape of the patch into a heart, this being the theme for the first quarter of the 1000 days voyage."

From the Checkenginelight projections of their blog on day 337:

"The boat has been rocking for days upon end now. Half the time it's the weather, the other half it's because he's a horny old bastard and he won't take no for an answer. Yesterday he had a little too much vino in celebration of our first lap around the world. Was serenading/chasing me (naked, I might add).. tripped.. fell.. his guitar tore a nine inch hole in the sail... He patched it with a cutout of the earth.. He's an optimistic prick... He even colored in the continents with crayons.. What'd you expect from a man that chases women 32 years his junior?"

Checkenginelight projections of their blog on day 578:

"This sea is a mother fucker. We just made it through those 100' tall waves they speak of in the Indian Ocean. Reid continues with his Pollyanna crap. I fell eight times in the last three days, receiving a total of 12 stiches.. and I think my collarbone is broken.. I'd ask Reid to check it for me - but it's too close to my right breast and he gets carried away easily. Have you ever doinked a man that's taken nothing but an occasional salt water shower in the last two years? It ain't pretty. The Indian Ocean wrecked havoc upon our main sail. Reid cut out 14 separate "Big Bandaids" to fix the holes. I think the little prick is making fun of me now."

Checkenginelight projections of their blog from day 712:

"I am SO fucking tired of eating beansprouts outta a Petri dish... I really think I could kill a cow with my bare hands right about now... You would think, by now, my digestive system would have coordinated/balanced my diet/living on a boat. It ain't. Reid, and his thirst for me simply won't die. Last night, upon the completion of "uh huh" - for the 893rd time - he fired his shotgun into the sky upon our (his actually) completion. Big waive came up just before he did. You guessed it. The sail. Sonofabitch cutout five roundish things that looked a bit like vomit piles to repair the sail. I'm getting a wee bit tired of his humor. Jokes on him though.. I tossed out the remaining supply of his Viagra somewhere just East of Cape Horn.... You think porpoise are edible?"

Checkengilight projections of their blog from day 836:

"Reid didn't talk to me for 63 days after finding out about the Viagra. Can you imagine not talking to ANYONE for over two months? We finally, for the sake of us both making it the remainder of the away alive, made up awhile back. Now, the only time I fear him is when he gets his EMHO. You know? Early Morning Hard On. I've found so many nooks and crannies to hide on this schooner, never fails though, the Little Dutch Boy soon finds me. Sail is getting more and more holes in it. Reid's been saying "fuck it.. we ain't in that bigga hurry anyways." If I hear "Anchors Away" one more time, I'm going to try out that harpoon over there."

Checkenginelight projections of their blog from day 964:

"I awaken daily to see if I can see the coast of the good ole US of A. It's either too GD foggy, or it's clear as a whistle and we just ain't that close yet. I want my mommy. We're down to rice, just rice, as our staple. I hereby promise to never again step foot in a Chinese restaurant as long as I live. Thirteen days ago, Reid, whilst repairing the sail (Round cut-outs complete with nipples.. I think he's trying everything to get excited again) got his beard stuck in a metal do-hickey on the sailpolethingy. I had to get the scissors to get him down. He fell 17' feet. Damn. I missed catching him. Hehe. He's been soooo pissed at me. In fact, after he downed our last bottle of Vodka last night, he ripped what remained of our mainsail down muttering something like "hardy har har and fuckit! Use your hot air to get us to Nantuckett!" Reid's 58 now. Is it too early for dimentia?"