30th September

Tuesday 30th September 2008, day 73, 23.11 pm. 36° 12’.7 N, 012° 45’.2 W. On passage to Madeira

There is phosphorescence in the sea tonight. I have had several attempts at finding a good way of describing the magic of it, but this is what it is like: it is like sailing, in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of the night, when the sea is black and the moonless sky is star-spangled grey, and you are the only person awake for as far as the radar can see, and as the boat rushes through a wave, the foam is thrown up white and shot right through with tiny globes of light, over and over again, and all you can see is the rushing waves and the glittering sea. That’s what phosphorescence is like.

The boat’s loos work on sea water, so in these conditions, it’s as if we’re flushing the loo with starlight. I just hope the plankton feel as poetic about it.

At night I am struck, more than ever, by the bravery of the explorers who set out across the oceans armed with little more than optimism and faith – and the hope of wealth and glory. On a moonless, cloudy night, there is almost no light at all, and you cannot even see the waves until their crests break. We have GPS and charts, so, apart from a log or a container, we know that there’s nothing for us to run into. We surge on into the darkness, confident that we know exactly where the next piece of land is.

Not only did the early explorers not know if the lands they were looking for existed, they didn’t know what other land or rocks might appear in their way, on which they could suddenly be wrecked. When they found land, would it appear over the horizon during the day, so they could reconnoitre and choose the safest-looking bay to land in? Or would the first they knew of it be the sound of waves breaking on the rocks ahead, still invisible in the darkness? We only know the names of the successful explorers, those who found land safely and returned. The names of those who were wrecked earlier on the same islands have vanished for ever.

We have seen two birds so far, a pair of juvenile gulls. They came in to land a few feet away from us, red legs extended as they slowed their glide, just hanging there until a wave came up to meet their feet, then they stalled and subsided gracefully and sat there bobbing up and down, just in case we threw some rubbish over the side.