Who's steering the Ark?

A dove, no olive branch, lands on Sailing-Ark “Babette” today. Remarkably similar to the common park pigeon. With two fancy ankle bracelets, double ring-marked, white and red. After wobbling precariously on the solar-cell tower, she flies down onto the wheel. Steers the boat briefly before hopping onto the benches in the cockpit. Bold as brass, marching about . Our guest is served breadcrumbs and water. Then thanks us with bird shit. We come to an agreement: she can hitch a ride on the forward deck. Only. Pigeon tries re-negotiations. Then tries “Sedna”. Ping-ponging back and forth for awhile. Before opting for a more independent life at sea. Or maybe a cozy bulk carrier.

Just as well as we’re busy putting reefs in the main, winding in the jib. The wind is working itself up to a howl and the waves are rising up on end again. Looks like a bumpy night-ride ahead.