What a difference a day makes, to coin a cliche. Whoever did the upended colander Incantation for us got it right. We have the assymetric kite up, hooning, heading a bit too far north but we'll drop it when we get up to 45N and pole out the heady and point at Hobart. From aaaarrrggghhhh to Aaaaaahhhh! It's just like sailing across the bottom of a glass of milk - one of those crystal glasses with a pattern cut into the base - grey crinkled fluid glass, liquid fog, no horizon and the diffused glow of a silver sun just hanging up there in the milky firmament. Noice, except for the runny drips off everything. This must be the fog Cook wrote about, that he sailed 900 leagues through. Convergence zone classic.
Ferals later - I think we need a new grib so I'll try to send this. Firefly starting to go green at 70+% on the propagation screen for sailmail (green means there's a chance to connect for that hour of the day and the % gives a rough guide as to how lucky you might be) so things are beginning to close in. About 30k in the marathon - way back from half way - the turning point for confidence. Or the hook for Damocles.