Into the Red Sea

As dawn's first light illuminated the horizon, DK gracefully carried us into the gateway of another world. The wind was light for these parts at only 20 knots, and the seas only 1 meter, as we speedily approached the busy shipping channel under a port tack broad reach. We turned to starboard and slipped along the restricted zone of Yemen's Perim Island before committing to crossing the shipping channel to the northwest. We were now officially sailing through the infamous, "Straits of Bab el Mandeb", often referred to as the "Gate of Sorrows" or "Gate of Tears", the very narrow section of water that joins the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden. Winds often funnel through this area at 30-50 knots and if the current is against the wind, huge standing waves can be common. We have heard that sunrise is the best time to transit the Strait, and so we find ourselves luckily crossing the shipping channel with only 20-25 knots of wind at our back, a favorable 1 knot current, and a dreamy African sunrise.

We are now officially out of the Indian Ocean and into the Red Sea!

We left Aden, Yemen, yesterday at about 1 p.m (March 15). Aden turned out to be mixed blessing for us. The people and the culture we experienced there were amazing. Yemen now ranks up there with having the most genuine welcoming and friendly people we have met anywhere. That says a lot considering all the places we have been on this journey. The history of the land and the culture there are a huge piece of the history of mankind and this is one place we really felt like we were truly "in another world". Yemen is definitely high on the list as a place I would return to for an adventurous 'off the boat' travel experience someday.

The reason, however, Yemen was a mixed blessing is because we were both mentally exhausted from our convoy experience and our boat projects were long and grueling. I had my worst filling diesel experience ever there, my worst engine sea water impeller change, and after almost 12 hours of energy attempting to fix our KISS wind generator, it still doesn't work. Then there was the VHF issues and the autopilot issues, a loud nightclub directly in front of our boat that blasted Yemeni music until 5 in the morning when the hundreds of "call to prayers" from the mosques start up to bring in the new day. We still did our best to have a balance of seeing Aden, taking care of business, as well as mentally recovering for our next leg

The first day coming through the Straits of Bab El Mandeb we rode the winds and waves throughout the day and night further north along the coast of Eritrea, a small country directly to the east of Ethiopia. As the morning turned into mid-day the winds and seas had built pushing from behind at 30-35+ knots and 2+ meter seas. We were making some of our fastest speeds on DK yet, surfing the waves with just a double-reefed main at 8-10 knots and feeling totally comfortable. Dolphins greeted us in the afternoon and once again exhibited their love for surfing as we watched 5-8 at a time elegantly riding the 6-8 foot backlit breaking waves right behind our stern.

We sailed on into the night enjoying the strong breeze and appreciating the fact that even though there were some other sailboats not far away, we were on our own and not accountable to anyone else again. Delta One was liberated.

The next day (March 17) the winds mellowed and we ended up having to motor-sail to make it to our intended anchorage in Howakil Bay before dark. As we neared the group of islands around Umm Es Sahrig in Howakil Bay, our intended desert island anchorage, the sea became alive. Flocks of thousands of boobies and terns spun circles around us and our fishing lures, huge schools of fish leapt and splashed on the waters edge, and large chalky-colored jellyfish pulsed underneath the surface. We haven't seen so many seabirds since the west coast of Mexico and big smiles came over our faces. We were loving it and all the stress and frustration of the last few weeks slipped away.

We dropped our hook in sand in the lee of the small limestone desert island in 20+ knots of wind, but with almost no swell, cracked open a cold beer and melted into our new world.

The next day (March 18) we were off at sunrise with the destination of a place called Shumma Island, about 45 miles north, which we had read is a beautiful spot. The lures were put out, earl gray tea in hand, and the day had begun. It wasn't 30 minutes later that I looked back to see us dragging a fish. It must not be too big, I thought, poor little guy. We slowed the boat down and brought our hand-line in until I had the fish next to the boat, gaff in hand. What first I thought was a mahi mahi, turned out to be something altogether new and different. It had the general shape and head of a mahi, but with a cool strange spotty pattern, and fins like a tuna. It was also pretty big; a few feet long and maybe 20 lbs. or so. We weren't sure what it was and decided not to keep it as we didn't want to kill it if we didn't even like the taste of the meat. I reached down and wiggled our flashy spoon lure out of it's lip and it slipped away into the depths to live another day.

The wind died and changed directions to 5 knots to the NE and we motor-sailed along all day once again enchanted by the thousands of seabirds and huge schools of bait fish. It was early afternoon and Nicole was busily doing sink-full after sink-full of handwash, since our engine and watermaker were constantly on, when I noticed a large shape on the water's surface just 30 feet away. I yelled to Nicole and she hustled up to the cockpit just in time to see a huge neck and shell break the sea's surface. We could see it perfectly, our first ever endangered Leatherback Sea Turtle! All of you who know Nicole can imagine her excited response when she becomes ecstatic with joy over something she cares so much about. She made me smile for hours.

As we approached the narrow pass through the coral reef to enter the protected lagoon of Shumma Island, another fish hit. Nic and I were both winding our hand-lines back in when all of a sudden Nic yelled and I looked at her face intense with concentration and arm muscles flexed fighting to hang onto the hand-line plastic spool. Only 25 feet out or so while she was reeling in the lure a tuna hit. Carefully she passed me the spool and I tied it off as a back-up before starting to hand over hand the line in along our starboard beam. I gaffed the tuna and pulled it onboard as Nic took some photos. It was a perfectly-sized 15 pound skipjack tuna, a fish which we hadn't caught in ages.

We slipped in thru the pass easily in good afternoon light, with Nicole high in the spreaders looking for shallow coral, and dropped our hook in the lagoon of Shumma Island. Two other boats were anchored not far way, at first we thought they were fishing boats, but later we saw they were actually tourist boats from nearby Massawa, Eritrea, doing an overnight trip camping along the shore. Tourist boats from Eritrea?? We were kind of shocked on that one.

We were stoked. Dolphins swam by at dusk as the golden globe sank into the mainland of Africa only 20 miles away. We enjoyed a peaceful evening under the stars eating some freshly caught tuna.

It's now March 19th and we are still anchored at Shumma Island. Last night the NW winds picked up (we knew they were coming) and a swell entered the lagoon (but we didn't expect that). DK rolled from side to side most of the night and we barely slept. Groggily we woke and had a light brekkie and tea before taking super dingy to shore for our first walk on African soil.

The land is limestone, filled with embedded fossils and huge shells lie scattered all over the scrubby surface. Big umbrella-like desert trees dot the land and thorny bushes and shrubs grow through barren substrate. The air is hot and the sky is desert-hazy. There are animal droppings everywhere: donkey? camel? goat? We're not sure, but it looks like there are definitely four-footed creatures tromping around somewhere on this 2 mile diameter low-lying island.

We walk the sandy beaches and find a hermit crab convention and heaps of seaweed at the water's edge. The big discovery of the day are the beautiful "venus comb" shells, brittle, barbed, and gorgeous, only to be found in Africa. We find many of them, but most of them with a resident. One is vacant and Nicole is ecstatic.

After our walk we put DK's stern anchor out to keep our bow pointing into the swell so we can actually sleep tonight. The tourist boats leave and we find ourselves all alone. Nic made a big egg and potato brunch and now we are catching up on our writing, enjoying the tranquility of this new place and extremely excited for the next Red Sea adventures to come.

Home Free

Day 6 and it's all over:

Local Date: Tuesday, March 9
Local Yemen Time (3 hours ahead of GMT): 14:10
DK Position: N 12 47.502', E 44 58.733'
Anchored in Aden, Yemen

We're 15 miles out of Aden when the huge stepped desert cliffs materialize out of the dusty haze. Stucco and whitewashed structures are perched on the cliffs. A sandy tongue of sand slithers through the valley between two peaks lapping at the sea with the look of an Arabian glacier. A big fish launches out of the water and brown booby birds do fly-bys.

Joost, Alpha 1, our leader, gives his final talk on the VHF congratulating our group and we all thank him for his valiant effort and energy making this all happen. He did an amazing job and I am sure he is just as exhausted as we are.

The last 10 miles we take turns calling Aden port control to tell them our boat details and then finally we dismantle the groups and follow each other into the harbor in single file. We take the back. We know the anchoring will be chaotic and we are happy to just chill out at last and take in our surroundings in our own sweet time. I finally turn off the VHF and don't plan on turning it on again for days. It's been non-stop and I am exhausted by it.

We are finally here!! We drop our hook in a tightly packed little anchorage now filled with not only our 17 boats from our convoy (3 of our French boats have kept going up the Red Sea), but also the "Vasco de Gama" Rally of 12 boats that just came south down the Red Sea. We needed a shoehorn to fit in here, but thankfully the other convoy said they are leaving in a few hours, so we will actually soon get a little space.

We are extremely glad this one is over. We feel success at having all made it here safely and intact. I don't feel the "I am so psyched" feeling I get after certain accomplishments, but more like, "I am so f**ing glad that is over!"

This convoy thing was no easy task. We recognize the effort that it took for everyone to stay together. There were many frustrating experiences, some really selfish people, and for us, some very scary near-miss collision situations. Most people were tense, nervous, frustrated, and exhausted more than once. Yet, everyone chose to follow the pack, try to communicate, and stick to together. This took a lot of patience, effort, and dedication.

Thankfully, regarding pirates, we saw, nor heard of any pirate attacks along the way. Did a pirate boat see us?? Were they deterred to attack us because of our convoy?? We will never know the answers but we do know that we are here safe and sound.

Nic and I just decided not even to go to shore to check in today. We just need to decompress, relax, watch a movie, and get some real rest. Plus, a break from the pack will probably let some of the bad memories slip away and we will be in a more positive mood tomorrow.

So we would like to thank all of you for your support, your love, and your positive energy thinking about us along our journey. We appreciate all of you and feel blessed that we have so many people who care about us and what we are choosing.

"Delta One, Over and Out"

Save Us From Ourselves

Day 5 in the Gulf of Aden:

Local Date: Monday, March 8
Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 12:45
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 5.2 knots
Wind: ESE 12-15 knots
Seas: 2-3 feet from the SE
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 130 miles

I wake up to the startling blast of our horn and the boat hard over to port. I lurch up the stairs and hear Gar reporting a
sailboat coming head on through our fleet. Gar is shaking, scared, angry, and confused about what happened. It is clear a boat
from Alpha turned into the fleet to raise his mainsail without notifying the fleet or turning masthead or deck lights on. This
is maddening. We too would like to sail but we signed on to go at convoy speed without compromising our maneuverability with
sails. Once again, a very near miss, I can see his stern lights and the outline of his sails clearly. He was seriously only
feet from our starboard side. At night this is one of the scariest things to see. That makes three.

Everyone is rattled. There have been too many close calls, too close. Gar is trying to identify the boat so they know what they have done. Once the boat is identified Delta 5 is swearing insultingly at the "Crazy" French man. I am embarrassed by the
American's response and appalled at the selfishness I have seen out here. Close calls make everything more intense. I am happy
to be alive and in love. The captain will not take responsibility nor apologize and again we have another night on edge. Our
eyes are acutely sharp as we watch the entire fleets movements closely. We monitor real time with our eyes, the radar, and chart plotter. We are overly cautious. Gar is clearly freaked out. He asks the Delta fleet to give him space, a lot of it. Delta 4 respectfully agrees to a minimum of 800 feet from our stern. At last, they are far enough away I can no longer see them in their
nav seat.

I slip back into bed, wrapping myself up in my sheet and blanket like a burrito. i try to calm myself down. I am grateful for
another two hours where I do not have to watch this world and be responsible for our group and what happens in it. Sleep does
not come, my heart is racing, my stomach is in knots and I am dreading another night of this. Also, our instruments went out
again yesterday afternoon for a couple of hours so my hearing senses are acutely focused. I am listening for the alarm that beeps when they go out. Gar has been on watch for over 13 hours as he wanted to monitor the instruments. I am worried about him too.

Most of my watch is quiet. I came on at 22:00 as the big dipper climbed higher while the southern cross sat on our port side. I am trying to hold our position in the fleet but Charlie has slipped back again and Bravo is still behind us. My watch gets
trickier. I now have to watch Alpha in front and the Bravo and Charlie Group in addition to the rest of the Delta group from
behind.

There were more changes yesterday. Charlie 5's engine went out. He is a big 30 tonne mono hull. Some heartening things
happened here. The convoy slowed way down in order to give Charlie 5 time to fix their engine. The conditions were terribly
uncomfortable for traveling under reduced sails. We were making 2 knots in 3 foot swell and 16-20 knots of wind. Delta 5
called to tell me I could do my laundry we were pitching and rolling so badly. We were in the agitation cycle. Surprisingly
everyone in the fleet slowed down and waited. Almost no one complained as we all moved very slowly for hours despite the fact
that our Tuesday arrival seemed to be slowly slipping away from us. They got the engine fixed and then it faltered again. Fixed
and faltered. Selflessly, Bravo 1 volunteered to give them a tow. Towing can at times be very hard on the tow boat, strain on
the engine and the boat is very common. By nightfall, Charlie 5 agreed to a tow and they were towed by Bravo 1 to Alpha 2's
position. Their new names are T1 and T2. Charlie 5 moved with their engine assisting the tow throughout the night from 4.7 to
5.7 knots. Good speed. This act, gives me hope in humanity and this convoy.

Two hours into my watch I saw a boat from Alpha 1 move across the fleet and out to starboard well away from everyone.
Thankfully, they were moving out rather than towards the fleet. I made contact but with the wrong boat. Two hours later the
boat was still falling behind. At 02:35, four and a half hours into my watch, delta five contacted me asking about the boat that
was just crossing his bow and coming my way. He was out of his formation and coming into our Delta convoy, very close to Delta
5. It all happened too fast. I made contact but Delta 5 jumped in. "I don't care about what's best for your sail angle or your
speed, You are in my space, you cut across my bow. You f**king crazy Frenchman. What is wrong with you f**king crazy
Frenchman... and on and on. I was seething, my heart was racing. Embarrassed by Delta 5's attack on another nationality (Delta
is now definitely the A**hole American group), but also pissed that this French yacht thought that because he was "in control"
of his own yacht as a professional skipper with thousands of miles of experience and years on the sea it was ok for him to
maneuver into our fleet risking a possible collision.

It is amazing to us how different people are in this convoy. Some are selfless and completely willing to sacrifice for the
benefit of the group and others are selfish and continually want to do what's best for themselves. Thankfully this morning and
afternoon all has been quiet. We have a nice wind and are motor sailing comfortably at 5.2-5.8 knots. Thankfully our Tuesday
arrival is most definitely within reach now. The air is crisp and clean. A little bird has visited 3 boats in the Delta fleet
and has put a smile on everyone's face. (I hope it comes to us next.) We have seen no pirates, only two fishing boats at a far
distance. The radio in our large fleet is refreshingly silent and we hear no talk of pirate attacks by the warships in our area. If all goes well for the next 24-30 hours we will be safely in Aden and will likely have become our own worst enemies in these waters.

In Peace,

The Admiral and her Captain

Day 4 in the Gulf of Aden

Local Date: Sunday, March 7
Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 13:40
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 4.2 knots
Wind: NE 15 knots
Seas: 2-4 feet from the SE
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 244 miles

"Bravo Five, this is Delta One", at 01:00 in the middle of the night, I call out on the VHF over and over.
"Alpha Six, this is Delta One, looks like we have a sleeper coming our way."
"Roger, Delta One, let's watch him closely so we don't get run over."

Bravo Five has fallen asleep on watch and gone off course. We were already within 1/4 mile from them before they peeled out of their convoy and started heading towards us. Nice.

Alpha Six and I continue to try to hail them on the VHF to no avail. When they are within shouting distance of us, we pull out our signal horns and blast them. It works. They wake up, groggily respond on the VHF that they weren't asleep (yeah right) and head back to their group. No apology, no "sorry we won't do it again". Everyone is tired, but some boats have really had trouble keeping good watches and keeping their VHF radio's on. Pretty irresponsible and dangerous in my book.

Another hour goes by, but the excitement never ends. At 02:00, a fishing boat is spotted on radar by the fleet and heading our way. It looks to be a traditional dhow closing in fast with a speed of 10 knots. The chatter goes around the VHF for everyone to pay close attention and get ready to try to get out of the way, that is, if you even can. The boat approaches Alpha Five on the upper right triangle of our convoy still going 10 knots. Everyone's breath is held and the VHF is totally silent. All of a sudden it turns south suddenly and begins crossing just off the bows of the Alpha Group, the lead boats in the convoy, close enough to almost touch and still doing almost 10 knots. The Alpha Group slows down fast and barely misses the fishing boat, then the dhow turns and runs down the width of the convoy along the side of Bravo Group.

Bravo Group collapses in towards the middle of the convoy, a couple of the boats come within a few hundred feet from me, extremely close in the night, one of my eyes fixed on their green and red running lights and one fixed on the radar screen. A lot of confusion is happening in the group and then I notice a sailboat from the Alpha Group doing a 180 heading after the Dhow, just missing Bravo One, the lead group of Bravo, and looking totally out of control.

They finally stop and do a 180 with the realization of what just happened. Mark, the captain, gets on the radio sounding totally confused trying to make sense of what just happened. What happened was he had to wake his crew to take the helm while he dealt with an emergency VHF call from a coalition boat down below. His crew, still asleep and hand-steering, all confused from the Dhow fishing boat, thought the Dhow was Alpha One, the lead boat in our convoy, and pulled out of the convoy to follow it. They didn't realize what was going on until almost colliding with Bravo One. The Dhow fishing boat speeds away having no idea what kind of scare and chaos it just created.

It very well could turn out that we are our worst enemies in these waters.

We mentioned already that our convoy is made up of 20 boats. Our leader is a Dutch boat named, "Halfskip". Joost, the Captain, has really been doing a great job trying to manage this lot. There are a few other Dutch boats, a boat from Belgium, a few French boats, some Kiwi's, and the rest split between the UK and the Americans. As you can imagine, we are all very different sizes and styles, ranging from a 32' monohull, to a 65' catamaran, not to mention how different we all are as far as being sailors. All of us have 2-3 people on board, the ones with 3 definitely have it easier with the amount of intensity directed towards keeping a tight course and very attentive watches.

This morning another shift in the ranks. Charlie Two, an American boat, asks permission from his group leader and Alpha One to change to our group, Delta Group. He has been having trouble with Charlie One, the group leader, for days. Charlie One and Charlie Two don't really see "eye to eye" with where they should be in the convoy position, and to Charlie Two's credit, I have to agree with him. The Charlie Group have a tendency to wander all over the place, sometimes drifting a mile away from the convoy and sometimes way slower. The group leader almost always thinks he is in the right place, however, and as you can imagine, leads to some frustration among the group members.

So now Delta group is back to 5, all the Yankees in the same group. Funny, yeah? Put all the loud Americans in the back of the pack. Besides Delta 5, our new addition is one of the most talkative in the convoy. Now they are right next to each other.

We are only two days out from Aden, but now in the very real infamous stretch called "pirate alley" where most of the commercial boat hijackings happen that you read about in the news all the time. Even though only 1 sailing yacht has been taken in this area in the last 2 years, the commercial boats and tankers are chased and often boarded weekly by the Somalia pirates.

The coalition convoy is closely monitoring us but they are also watching and patrolling the "corridor" just south of us. The corridor is a U.N. patrolled shipping lane where all the commercial tankers and cargo ships transit from and to the Red Sea. Right now on our AIS display, I can see 35 boats, from 40 miles to 200 miles away. Just 50 miles south of us at this very moment I can see a commercial/tanker ship convoy of boats in tight formation, just like we all our here. There are 23 boats from 400 feet to 1000 feet long right next to each other traveling at 11 knots. They are smart. Most likely they also have the protection of a battleship or some sort of security force.

Like I said, we are now officially in the "high risk" zone.

The winds have come and we now have 15 knots right on our tails with the seas picking up to 2-4 feet. It is rolly. Really rolly. The direction of the wind and waves is all wrong for us little sailboats. Stuff is slamming around in all the cupboards and I am starting to get seasick trying to write this. Overall, however, we are holding up ok. Everyone in the convoy is tired and definitely holding anxiety, but we are doing ok, happy to be nearing the end of this and grateful for our continued safe passage so far.

Big love and many thanks for all the support out there.

"This is Delta 1, over and out for now"

Captain Chuck

almost 1/2 way Day 3

Day 3 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 11:35
Local Date: Friday, March 5
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6.0K
Wind: NE 6K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 383 miles

Deep thoughts from Gar, "You know, this convoy thing is really pretty smart."

Especially around 07:00 when 4 small fishing boats came over the horizon. And then later, when 9 larger fishing boats came
cruising through our fleet so close we could wave at the fisherman and see the expressions on their faces. It was a bit spooky. We decided with the first entry of fishing boats we would practice our defense tactics. So we went through the exercise, practice for pirates, tightening ranks and closing in on Alpha. We learned a lot of things. Many of them old. The most obvious and well known is that the slowest boat should not be in the back. Saroni is the slowest boat, except for the lead boat. To get into tactical position, we have to wait for our convoy to catch and tighten up. It took us 11 minutes to tighten up and head toward Alpha group. Way too long.

What to do? The only real solution is to move Saraoni up in front. The problem is the way the groups were organized- in order of when the boat signed up. We signed up last so we are the back of the pack. Playfully referred to as "pirate bait". No one wanted to switch to come back with Delta except someone willing in Charlie but it didn't really solve the problem so now Saraoni is up with Alpha and we have one less boat to manage. We are now traveling in a diamond formation.

There is never a dull moment in this convoy. Alpha 1 called for an engine check stop for 10 minutes. All boats stopped in
formation except one. A Delta rogue, Delta 3. They are now positioned directly behind our stern and with a tighter formation (recommendation from what we learned with our earlier exercise). You guessed it, they just missed slamming into us at 6 knots. Our angels have been busy. Thank You! Please keep the positive thoughts flying our way. We can use all we get.

Few, we are exhausted. Managing this group is a constant job. It is almost ridiculous. Seriously, I go to the bathroom with the hand held VHF. On watch, I do nothing other than watch the boats around me, manage our track, and look for ships and boats on the radar and the horizon.

Smart? Smart. We wouldn't really want to do it any other way. It is the best offense we can have other than a warship. Hopefully it will be worth it. We both have back aches, more grey hairs and bags under our eyes. I am wearing patches on my shoulders to relieve the tension and Gar should put one on his lower back but he doesn't want a wax.

The sky is a cloudy shade of blue and the sun is bursting through. It is hot but good to see some brightness in our days. Birds feed on the surface and sargasso sea weed floats by.

"This is Delta 1, over and out for now."

Admiral "Patches" and Captain Chuck (Norris, that is)

Day 2

Day 2 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 15:05
Local Date: Thursday, March 4
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 04.3K
Wind: NE 4.7K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 475 miles

The VHF crackles to life again. "Delta 1 this is Delta 5, I think you are in danger of being taken over by your group, over."

It is obvious. It's 05:13 and it's still dark. We run with deck lights aft and stern to avoid being seen at long distances. I can see green and white and red and white lights coming directly up my stern. It is tricky, we should stay .5 miles behind Alpha 1, the lead group and .25 from both of our flanks. Controlling speed and course is challenging to say the least with 20 boats traveling at different speeds and with different approaches.

At 00:13 hours a large wooden dhow fishing boat cruised quickly through our convoy, uncomfortably close. When they left I could
smell the stink of animals on the wind. He must have been transporting cattle.

It is a bit eerie out here, no wind, almost a reflective sea, silver skies and a light peach sun. O'Flo, our friends with the
fuel issue reconnected with us at sunrise this morning.

Everyone listening to us must be chuckling. Rendez Vous Kay and Saraoni are at it again. Bickering over their speed and
position. I think it might be a game for them now. They are amiable this morning.

We needed something exciting to happen. No wind and flat seas and a lot of miles to go. This afternoon Gar gave the fleet
something to talk about. We were being pinched on both sides buy the Bravo and Charlie group and were trying to get back into
position. Talking through it on the radio with the groups we were trying to problem solve so we could slip back in. Anyone who
knows Gar knows people who seem selfish and stubborn rub him the wrong way. I never should have given him the radio. He got
rubbed and took the bait. Gar lost his cool and played the ugly American card. This guy was been playing the pompous sailor.
Things have cooled down and Gar apologized as did this other guy. The group is back on track and we have returned to our proper
position within the fleet.

A huge school of dolphins just crossed our bow. Also, super cool and really comforting, the Coalition Forces who have been
tracking our progress sent an Australian chopper for a fly by today. The chopper cruised low and circled around all of the
boats. It's good to know they're watching out for us. We'll keep on moving. Hoping for a Tuesday am arrival.

Onward.

We're Off

Day 1 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 17:05
Local Date: Thursday, March 4
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 04.5K
Wind: NE 4.7K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 569 miles

"Delta One, this is Alpha One, what's your etd?"
We are Delta One, the leaders of the Delta group, the back of the pack.
We left this morning under cloudy skies at 09:48 following the convoy of a total of 20 boats. We travel with four other boats at our flanks and our stern flanks. There are four groups of five and we travel in diamond formation. Conversations with one of the American boats goes something like this...

"Delta assault leader this is Delta four." -Rendez Vous

"Go ahead Delta four" -Gar

"How do you want our ranks?" -RV

"It would be great if everyone can tighten up once people get sorted with their sails." -Gar (As some of you might know, five boats turning into the wind to raise sails in tight quarters is more than challenging.)

"Can I call you Chuck Norris?"-RV "If you must." -Gar

This is only the beginning. After 5 days we will have some quality quotes we are sure. The other boats are already annoyed with the American chatter and we are trying to find a balance. We are supposed to maintain radio silence which is proving to be a challenge.

Our travel plan is to travel within a half of a mile or so from each of the big groups during daylight and a mile separation at
night. There is no wind and we are in glassy seas so it hasn't been to difficult yet. It is really hot. We sailed through a
huge pod of dolphins at around 1300 hours and motored through a big pod of pilot whales for over an hour. Their fins are huge
when they slice though the water.

Our friends, some young Brits on O'Flo had to turn around to 740 liters of incorrect fuel when they discovered it was diesel when their outboards stopped working. We plan to wait for them and have them catch up in the night.

More tomorrow. Thanks for keeping us in your thoughts.