16 21 S, 084 06 E, A week on the Indian Ocean has passed, two more to go if I sail to Reunion Island…
Am I sailing to Reunion Island? God only knows… At the moment, I am not sure if I will make it to Rodriquez Island, or maybe Port Louis on Mauritius… I will make a decision depending on durability of all the temporary fixes I have made so far... (a bit like flying a plane with no idea where you are going to land)

For now, I am having a kind of “Indian” nights. An Indian night is when you get a unique opportunity to grab any item flying around, even those which have been previously carefully arranged, just by reaching out your hand. You can have anything you want – an apple? No? Maybe a torch? No? Even with delivery straight to your bunk, Madam?!
Then the yacht makes a turn and everything flies in the opposite direction. How about an apple, again?
Suddenly, the wind dies between squalls and the yacht just rocks on the dead waves for about half an hour. Yesterday, I stood by the mast, making sure boom stayed in one place. Afterwards, I was able to make myself some tea, eventually. I prepared even two... for the first one went straight to the sink... (waves)
News: the infection has stopped. Maybe it got tired of the Indian night as well. I can stand on my foot now, I got tired of pretending to be a stork. You know the Indian nights, sometimes you have to stand there for a long while. You didn’t know? When you want to see the horizon and look for other ships, you just stand and wait. When the yacht climbs the wave and you almost see the horizon, the yacht suddenly drops down the wave and you see nothing. So you wait for another climb. And another.... And yet another one... Like in the Indian night, you can see something, but not much...
 Great, a wave popped over Tanasza. It came in, made a terrible mess, and went on to search for another ship. Indian night, I’m telling you.