I mean ‘sea’, on the sea again as we traverse the 130 or so miles from Flores to Faial. It’s my watch (11p-2a) and every now and then I check the horizon for any other lights indicating boats to avoid.

So far it’s been just a sea of blue with only a dot (turtle) of another life since we left this early morning.

Now, at 12:54p it’s just me (I), the night sky and waters, and the ever-present snack bin.

Earlier we did have another occasion to address dining etiquette with both Max and Dick deigning to use their napkins, something I toss at them whenever there’s a meal.

Of course, today they used them only after they first tried their ever-present ones, their shirt collars.

It was during this time I realized tomorrow/today is a shower day. Then gasped for the last time was five days ago. I summoned a wee bit of relief when I remembered we had dunk our heads in a cold waterhole alongside the road on Friday followed by a dip in a waterfall; but, still, that was FRIDAY. At least we had had showers Thursday for I forbade anyone putting their unwashed heads on the clean pillow cases I had put out in honor of reaching land.

Mirroring that hygiene scare is our lack of fresh clothes. The only laundry I’ve done since June 6th were a few pieces of underwear and a pair of quick-dry pants each for both Dick and me. However, this doesn’t faze Max who, when questioned why he didn’t put on a clean shirt after his first shower (or second one for that matter) announced he had three of the same shirt. Only after seeing three in the dirty laundry bag did I believe him… I fear, Carol E., I am falling into a dangerous habit here.

We did toss another message-in-a-bottle using one gifted to us by my friend Andrea who, in deference to my supposedly wine snobbery, had found the perfect brand to grace Juanona’s wine cellar.

Now it’s 1:10a and I’m looking forward to when I can crawl back into my berth and dream of freshly laundered clothes.

YAHOO! woken up just before 7a to help dock at Horta’s reception office. One hour later, after hosing the boat down and stuffing odiferous items into canvas bags, we’ve stumbled to what I’ve been praying for since we left: washing machines, dryers, and showers!

Eduardina, the attendant at Horta’s laundry and shower services, has become my new best friend. After taking one look at me and the bags she immediately started quickly pointing to the timers on the spinning washing machines saying ‘only trece minutes’ for one followed by subsequent points to the three others. Then, she said ‘shower?’

After explaining I’d been on a boat with two hombres, the three of us taking showers every FIVE days (oy) and no laundry since June 6, she looked into my eyes, tenderly brushed the matted hair off my forehead and smiled with so much understanding I nearly went down on my knees to kiss her feet. My prayers have been answered: I have found a goddess on earth and she comes with clean machines.

On the road again and smelling mighty fine… :)