Wir haben eine anstrengende Nacht hinter uns. Dabei fing es so herrlich an: Achterlicher Wind von zehn Knoten schob uns unter Parasailor (125 m) in die Nacht hinein. After the pitch-dark nights of the leg to Bermuda, the moon is now with us every night and lights up the sea. In addition, it has become a few degrees warmer again and we were able to go from four layers of clothes to three layers again in the style of an onion. Jens and I had the first watch again 22 Clock up 1 o'clock and everything was quiet. We sat happily under the starry sky, sipped a hot broth and didn't have much to do except watch the autopilot steer.
Changing of the guard was over 1 in the morning and we were able to get into the bunk.

I wake up about an hour and a half later, because the ship lurches unusually strongly when coming down from the wave crests. I'm currently checking the plotter on my cell phone in my bunk via WiFi, whether course and speed have changed in any way, then my door opens. “The wind has increased considerably”, said Sammy, ” I think we have to take the Parasailor away.”
High time, because the anemometer is already pointing over 20 Knots. Oilskins and life jacket on and off. However, the problem with the big sail is, that once the timing is missed, the wing gains so much lift, that the recovery hose can hardly be pulled over the sail. Notching the sheets to windward doesn't work so well either, because then it folds to leeward and starts hitting there, because he doesn't (like the spinnaker) in the lee of the Groß. Of course you can roll out the genoa, but we usually lack a winch for that, because the vangs and sheets lie on it. “Los, Let's try it like this first”, I suggest in the spotlight on the foredeck and start pulling on the recovery line. No way, the funnel won't come down. Suddenly Sammy attacks and I'm surprised, how strong he is. Like the green Hulk, he stands there on the foredeck, roars and yanks on the leash at the same time, until the sail is in the bag. I can barely keep up with the pulling. I'm impressed. “It works”. When tying the halyard to the gennaker trunk, I support myself on the water stay and briefly submerge my leg completely into the sea. Atlantic baptism. Shoot, I would have put on rubber boots too.
Because we don't know, how strong the wind increases, First we just turn out the genoa and run downwind. I can stay in the bunk for another hour until my watch begins, but still full of adrenaline from the nighttime sailing maneuver, I can hardly sleep.

Shortly after 5 In the morning it finally dawns, the wind has died down a bit and turned to the south. Time for a new sailing maneuver. With a loud clang I bring the sheet for the gennaker (95 m) over the side deck, tension the endless reef line and mount the roller on the trunk. Then raise the sail. About 20 It takes minutes, until everything is installed and Jens cranks out the sail , while sitting on the bow of the port hull and the reef line brake. Another wave crashes over me. The ship immediately picks up speed and sails into the sunrise. A wonderful picture. Jens takes photos. A good hour later we are already sitting in the cockpit with a coffee, when Michi and Sammy appear on guard. “When did you set the gennaker??” they are amazed. They completely overslept. Seems, like we were all a little exhausted.

The wind helps us to do this 16 Knots from diagonally aft to a great rushing ride 9 Knots. Wonderful. The wind continues to slowly change and so we will probably reduce to conventional sailing again in the afternoon and head east. Blöd, that the waves then come from the side again and crash against the leeward hull. But things are progressing well. Only 1545 Nautical miles to Horta.