Apologies for blogs out of order! Some things seem to jump ahead of others.

Crossing the equator is considered a big event for mariners. As we approached the latitude of 0 degrees 00 minutes 00 seconds, we tried to figure out what would be most celebratory and appropriate for our crew.  Bri made a cheesecake with strawberries (instant and canned, respectively, but still yummy) and we each wrote a poem based on the word “Equator”.  Sailors often toss a little champagne overboard, but it seemed appropriate in our case to share a little maple syrup with the sea!  (Pictures to follow) Bri and I each wrote poems and you can read hers at their blog. Below is my eeffort.  The reference to the green noodles concerns another boat making the crossing, on which the father cooked some spaghetti, colored it green and wore it as if he were King Neptue. !

“Counting down: degrees, minutes, seconds of latitude. Oddly, not unlike the centimeters, hours and minutes of labor and childbirth, both mystical rites of passage involving waves and dizziness.

A slow approach to that spherical line of balance between
north and south
night and day,
a point of encounter,
a Maginot line of wind effects

Where King Neptune awaits intrepid mariners who pay him homage, in return for safe passage in a new hemisphere.

Salute the King!
Don green spaghetti and wave your trident!
Tip your bubbly overboard!

Llyr spills the sweet blood of our Heathen trees back to the sea from which it came,
as we feast on cheesecake and strawberries.

In a flash, the degrees, minutes and seconds begin to climb again as we cast ourselves forward to 3000 miles of open ocean and promised, distant landfall.”