Survival of Wild Tigris' fittest

Survival is the name of the game on the High Seas.  As we crossed the Equator and into the doldrums, Dave was offered up to appease Neptune, forced to drink his blood, and to ease his hunger, the captain and crew made Equator pancakes on top of his head, where the pancakes cooked just right under the brutal sun.  As the wind picked up as we headed north, we have now been stuck on a beam reach for days on end.  Portions of ham and egg quiche were rationed out at lunch time.  After a brief stop at Devil’s Island near French Guiana, the crew has become concerned with an outbreak of yellow fever and we are forced to drink rum and tonic at sunset, for medicinal purposes.  Sean is dizzy with anticipation of some Guinness after a landfall on Trinidad for St Patrick’s Day, where our survival instincts are sure to kick in once again.  Love to my lovely daughters, Lauren and Bailey, and my wildly beautiful wife, Sharon.

-Dave for WT

9 40’ N

58 42’ W

2300UT