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Work at the construction site was slow and disorganised.
All of the plastic materials used to build the boat's structure were untested and, to his credit, David insisted on a hull design that incorporated recycled plastic bottles in their original form.
You fumble with layers and zips as you lean over the edge for a piss. The ocean is iridescent purple, and lines of orange and blue edge the sky.
Jo said, "Most sailors lost at sea are found with their tackle out." You sit at the helm and steer the course: 150 degrees. The entire sky is humming, as light from the sun arcs through the atmosphere.
Max is talking to himself on the helm – which is entertaining the rest of us.
Off to get a sleep before dinner, although with Olav cooking I might give it a miss; got a feeling it could be flying fish.
In the cabin you pass half-undressed members of the other watch.
"Morning." "Good night." Emerging into the strange night you venture to the deck's edge and grab hold of a mast stay, flexing cold-metal with every movement of the ship. Looking at the boat's wake, you realise dawn is approaching.
We are trawling one fluorescent, feathered, garish lure on the end of a line and rod. That's the biggest tuna I've ever caught," mumbles Olav who previously spent two-and-a-half months floating across the Pacific on a replica of the Kon-Tiki. " "We're more than 1,000 miles from any landfall," she says. It means we're alone." The announcement is electric.
It can only go with the flow, in our case, from East to West following the Pacific currents and trade winds.
The garbage gyre lies north of Hawaii and from our launch in San Francisco it was beyond our reach.
When David de Rothschild sailed across the Pacific this year, the voyage became a model of the media-savvy eco-adventure.
But what was life like aboard the 'Plastiki', a 20ft by 60ft press office strapped to 12,000 plastic bottles?
There was also the "discovery" of huge gyres of plastic waste "the size of Texas" trapped in oceanic vortices.