That night, we had pizza aboard the boat after sorting out immigration issues, and the corkscrew was back in action after more than a week of rest. But most of us (not to mention any names, Rudi!) hit the hay early, knowing we had a day of boat chores ahead of us. In the morning, we gathered in the saloon and drew lots for assignments. I got lucky, I thought, when I landed the job of the saloon. Every surface was wiped with cleaning spray: under all of the pillows, the walls; the Reflex was vacuumed and wiped; the biscuit locker was completely emptied, cleaned, and restocked (someone had put an open packet of cookies in there—oh, the horror of crumbs!), the floor was vacuumed and washed…Another group took all the foulies on deck and washed them thoroughly, then scrubbed the boat down. Two people labored in the forepeak, where perishables had been stored beneath the sole, close to the icy water (Pelagic Australis doesn't have a refrigerator!). Needless to say, the water temperature had undergone a pretty dramatic change in the last 1000 miles and we had started tossing beef over the side a few days earlier. The pilothouse and galley were scrubbed from top to bottom, the heads and companionways were cleaned until they shined. By mid afternoon, the boat positively sparkled and smelled of lightly floral disinfectants.