Something's come between us

It's Shannon’s watch. Four night hours in misting fog, rolly seas. “Babette” is rolling along, too. At six knops. Then, forward, starboard, right out of a gray curtain of fog, I see a huge wave breaking over the bow of a bulk carrier, landing on its forward deck. Switch on the radar, call up the captain, and hand-steer. “Babette” is sailing on a port tack, the wind well behind. Not much to go on to starboard. Luckily looks like he’ll fall behind us; I can just make out a bit of his starboard side now. Oernulf’s up now, takes pictures, as we pass, starboard-to-starboard, less than one nautical mile away. Then the ship passes “Sedna”. Port-to-port. He goes between us! Nice that his radars seem to be functioning, swirling in the fog. Ragnhild, steering “Sedna”, tells us that on their radar he seemed to be heading for “Babette”. Before he swung between us.

An otherwise bumpy, grey day. The captain’s cheery Scottish porridge warms up the crew.