(I still find this unbelievable. Sure, I’ve seen the surface of Lake Superior as smooth as glass on occasion, but how can it be so still in the middle of a vast ocean?)
I spent hours gazing at the water, fascinated, thinking of the adventurers who crossed this ocean in sailing vessels. Remembering stories of sailors stranded on the still water, slowly baking in the still, hot air. Now I understand what it would mean to be stuck in the Horse Latitudes, why sailors would go mad after weeks becalmed in the great still sea.
Of course, for us the eerily still water simply made for days of smooth cruising under power.