The bowels of South America

Approaching Colon, the nicest spot in South America, described by the rough guide as "Colon is a dangerous slum, unless you have a pressing reason to come here, do yourself a favor and give it a miss." The trouble is that after 5 days at sea I'm actually looking forward to the place.

This is in no way related to the fact that we have only 2 beers left on board.

Yesterday morning we caught a fish, wahoo which we consumed last night, with a sauce of butter, garlic, lime and lemon. With a side of baked potatoes and sweet potatoes. That really hit the spot. Poor old Jackie is still sea sick so her dinner went straight back overboard.

Al and I have been standing most of the watches, its hard work with just 2. I think Al's had the worse part of the deal, so last night we swapped. I got the latter part of the night, which means I can see the southern cross. It only rises late at night, its about the only southern hemisphere constellation I know. We're 9 degrees now. I've not managed to pick out Polaris for a while now. There's no equivalent in the southern sky, you have to follow the the vertical of the southern cross and make a guestimate. There's no doubt however, I'm sailing where the stars a strange. Not that I've all that much time to gwak at them, the traffic round here is like Friday on the M25

If you look at the panama canal its not long. If you look at it closely, the only bridge I can see, or remember (watch this space), is the bridge of the Americas at Panama city. So the Atlantic ocean is separated from the pacific by a spit of land (2 hours on the Bus) north and south America are connected only by the same narrow isthmus and the one bridge. Its lucky religious terrorists aren't too bright. Drop the Bridge of the Americas into the Canal and god knows what you'd do to the world economy.