Ocean Synthetic

20 May 1995. It was one of those days in which the Atlantic seemed to take a little break from his incessant movement. The surface was shining as if it were of Crystal; a blinding blue invaded everything. The sky was smooth, a cloud to be seen, and with the Sun at the Zenith, only a good pair of incorporates glass allowed me to scrutinize the horizon with eyes wide open. The perfect visibility and the Lake around us instead of the ocean, gave it a relaxed atmosphere to that third watch. Robert Rimberg wanted to know more. The autopilot toward their work and the engine of our schooner of 15 meters grumbled constantly maintaining a speed of 8 knots; candles rested, as did the crew.

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