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As we entered the atoll I peered atop from the mast, the water was calm & exquisite with different shades of blue and massive coral reefs with over 230 different coral species & 600 species of fish. A thin, elongated island splayed in the shallows further along, the centre as rocky and desolate as Mars, but pure white & home to Red-tailed Tropicbirds & Ruddy Turnstones. This was to be our playground for the next week. Each night I’ve been sleeping on a giant inflatable mattress that’s tied to the top of the Catamaran. The whole Indian ocean surrounds me, and above I’m looking at the billions of galaxies, the deep milky way and a rare abundance of shooting stars. I seriously have a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the sky, the soothing sounds of waves lapping against the hull and ropes swaying against the mast. Bedwell Island may just look like a long stretch of sand, but it’s a whole beautiful little ecosystem with an abundance of life and natural patterns. As I pulled the kayak up onto the beach, I instantly felt completely immersed in the islands divine beauty. Hundreds of crabs would scurry their way into the rocks as I walked up the long stretch of exposed reef. And Eels! Some sort of Eel like creature with cream skin and tiny black dots slithered their way through the shallows, absolutely terrified by the sight of me. There is many a treasure to be found on an island three hundred kilometres out to sea, plastic is still one of them unfortunately. The paddle back was an enjoyable mission, White-tip reef sharks meandering in the shallows and a slow setting sun sinking below the horizon- the push back to the Galley Cat was on. I sheepishly arrived home to a nice lamb curry simmering away on the stove top. Cheers Ash! The waves on the outer reef of Clerke atoll have been pounding against the 400-meter-deep reef wall for the past four days. We’re currently out on the high seas trying to hold down the last hours sushi and seared chicken. We took a punt and headed towards the channel (the only way in and out). We secured everything down and packed bowls, cooking utensils, the dive gear, anything loose inside the cabin. The dinghy secured on the back with a pulley system that can hold one tonne. The caribenas have warped and torn their way open against the weight of the dinghy, which is getting absolutely pummelled by the rise and fall of the sea. Tumultuous to say the least. Captain said Galley Cat is riding nicely- although after his daily dozen dose of greens and the thumps of great liquid mass knocking the boat from underneath, I’m in more unease than gallant enthusiasm. Stew, Stew, Stew. I’d describe Stew as an experienced stinky old sea dog who’s constantly ‘pissed and stoned as a maggot’ but as harmless and affable as his Pitbull Honey. Ash is lying on the floor of the cabin next to the dog. He just vomited up about a litre of creamy liquid bile and this morning’s sushi. He’s at it again about 10 minutes later. I don’t think I’m far behind. Big rolls of white water leaped and bound towards us as we rolled left to right in between the coral sheath. Although this wasn’t even the worst bit; the worst bit was battling against the mountain like, unforgiving swell as it hit the edge of the atoll and pushed back with a thwarted stubbornness. We were in the midst of its game, 12 or so miles out and the high seas were still prevailing. God it gave me anxiety, but I seemed to be taking myself out of the situation and kind of standing back from it all- like the early Indigenous people who would leave their bodies to look for wild prey on the valleys below- It doesn’t ease the rise and fall of my stomach, however. Now it’s just holding on tight for the next 30 hours from here and praying that Galley Cat can ease her way through the swell…