Position: 32 degrees, 20 minutes south; 177 degrees, 42 minutes east

We did 120 miles in the past 24 hours with just the jib up. But, the wind has changed. It’s coming around to the west and we need the mainsail to keep our northerly(ish) heading so put up the main with two reefs and the stays’l. We’ve been alternating between furling the jib and just leaving the double reefed main and stays’l. We’re maintaining speed above 6 knots.

Last night was grey. Just dark and grey. No stars, no moon, nothing but shades of grey. In fact the lack of visual cues made my hearing all the more acute and it got me thinking about all the sounds of Charisma at sea as a type of symphony.

So, here are my thoughts on the “Tayana Variations On A South Pacific Theme” by Charisma.

First off, I think Debussy or Grieg would have been good composers for this symphony because each is exceptional at evoking the lyrical beauty and magic that is present here. However, the emotion goes deeper. If Gustav Mahler had ever come this way he would be the one who could capture the essence of what we’re doing and feeling. Depth, mystery and beauty.

Mahler would have understood the enormity of the ocean, invisible below the surface reflections yet teeming with life just under the surface that occasionally and quite suddenly explodes out into the daylight. And he would have played with the feelings of the infinite reach of the stars and sky – tonight hidden behind the clouds – but there waiting nonetheless to burst forth and delight.

Charisma’s symphony at night is a cacophony of sounds in the greyness of a cloudy night. Some, familiar and comforting. Others, new and disturbing.

The first movement is set at 15 knots of wind. Strings, mostly cellos move to the fore. Pianissimo as Charisma slides through the waves, a constant ebb and flow against the hull as we crest a wave, then coast down, water rushing past and then slice into the one in front, water gurgling around the hull as Charisma gathers herself for the uphill climb and then yet another slide down the next one.

While the strings describe the motion, percussion in the background drives the constant beat of the journey (in ¾ time) with a syncopated rhythm as counterpoint to the lyrical rise and fall of the strings. Tick, Tick, Tick – Tick, Tick, Tick – Clang…Clang.

Suddenly a cymbal crashes out of nowhere, reverberating violently in your ears. A rogue wave, 90 degrees out of phase just crashed against the hull, slamming the boat sideways, water bursting into the air and then falling back on itself sizzling like bacon on a hot griddle.

In the background you can hear the timpani announce a gust of wind, swirling across the water, reaching the deck then searching out voids and finding every opening with a dull relentless hum.

Just a little off the beat, we can hear a few comical notes from an oboe. Ahh, the cockpit drains burbling little giggles as the water passing under the hull tickles Charisma’s toes.

Right now it’s about 0300. In a couple hours, we’ll get to the second movement. A piano playfully foreshadows sunrise. Then if the clouds part a bit and make way for morning light – the horns. First a lone trumpet as the sun searches for a hold on the new day. Then as it pushes aside the grey of night, the bright triumphant chorus of horns pushes the quiet strings aside and proclaims a new day full of promise. Warmer, brighter, because we’ve moving north – leaving winter behind and seeing hints of the tropics ahead.