Land Ho

It is around eight o’clock aboard CoCo. The crew has had their hunger extinguished by a giagantic lasagne prepared by Henrik. The sun is setting as Peter and Sebastian make ready for their night watch. Visibility is poor in what appears to become a misty, windless and starless night, but the lads nevertheless expect to spot signs of land at any minute now.
Sebastian is on the look-out as Peter finishes the last few pages of a novel by Jon Michelet about a young, Norwegian sea-faring lad. Fitting. Just when Peter has finished his book and is on his way from the galley with some hot chocolate, Sebastian spots what appears to be a single candle with a yellowish hue flickering on the horizon through the mist. It is the lighthouse of Sagres.
As the light grows stronger, a breeze picks up from the north-west. With it comes a scent that is strongly familiar, but almost forgotten after a week at sea. Dirt? Pine needles? Do they even have pine trees in Portugal? Peter and Sebastian fill their lungs with this landly odour as if it was their very first breath after a long and deep slumber. In a mere hours, CoCo will be making berth in the city of Lagos.