Light winds, sunny skies, fair weather predicted for the sail, after an enjoyable three weeks of exploration we departed Mauritius for Reunion.
A typical shuffle of the Sri Lankan fishing fleet was occurring as we motored over to Customs. It was like watching a water ballet.
Paperwork signed – thankfully not the rigmarole encountered upon entering – into the channel Gratis motored. Whilst doing so, the crew upon a fishing boat, its nose harbour bound, drew our attention. Unbeknown to me, although I had turned all instrumentation on, the radio itself was still off. Port control had been attempting to contact us: it turned out one was required to radio port control whenever leaving a port.
Over the hours, the island steadily disappeared into the hazy mist of the tropical skies: no photos, just not worth the effort.
The excitement of the night, Bob’s catch of his second Wahoo, 1.2 metres long. Unlike the first, this fella refused to go in without a fight. Our mouths salivating at the promise of the meals to come, he was hauled over the side, bled and divided into 12 good sized portions.
As the sun set in a haze of orange, yellow and crimson, the blood red full moon rose behind to brilliantly light the night’s sky.