One of the most unexpected aspects of this journey is the absolute requirement that a specific degree of education be acquired. This isn't daysailing on a lake. This isn't dog-paddling in a pool. This isn't back-stroking through a puddle. THIS IS SAILING ON THE #@&*ING PACIFIC OCEAN. The Pacific Ocean is a big place. If you can't see land, how do you know where you are? If you're like me, you ask Captain Harry sweetly, "Where are we, darling dearest Captain?" If you're like Harry, you point to the 184 charts (not an exaggeration) and say, "Figure it out, peachy-pookie." So last night we had our second serious seminar on sailing, scintillating way-point plotting and all. Peter and I were given way-points, which are pre-determined (by Captain Harry) spots upon the planet that we hope
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