Tomorrow, Wednesday morning, we expect to arrive at Tristan de Cunha, the most remote inhabited place on earth.
At the moment we are motor-sailing towards the island, still some 57 nautical miles away, having not seen any land, vessels or unfamiliar faces since leaving South Georgia over a week ago. It isn’t that long really, by the standards of tall ship journeys, but it is plenty of time and distance to reach one small settlement, home to about 250 people.
The watch system is suspended from 2300 tonight, which means I am off duty. A scotch awaits in Europa’s bar.