What a day! I was on watch from 0300 to 0700, then went to bed with a book. Read a little, dozed a little, but mostly stared out the porthole by my upper berth and watched the water rush by. We have tacked and are heading northwest now, which means the port side of the boat (where my berth is located) is now heeled over, and I am treated to a fantastic view of the waves. I watched them getting bigger and bigger, slate gray with white spray skidding across the flat surfaces, like drifting snow on a cold winter day. Every minute or so we’d take a particularly deep dip before we rode up the next wave, and the porthole was obscured by turquoise water—the secret, flamboyant lining of the of the sea’s staid gray suit.