At 7:15 the water temperature is back up to 61.8, and we're steering 143 to be able to maintain a 137-degree course. At about 7:30 a pod of porpoise bursts out of the east like a fusillade of torpedoes headed directly for the ship, then takes up station on our bow wave. At 7:40 Cannicioni sets the gyro compass to 144, angling harder to starboard into the current. At 8:00 the water temperature is up to 68, and at 8:30 it goes to 73.9, climbing 12 degrees in only 18 miles. The seas have smoothed out. We've crossed the north wall and are into the heart of the Stream, beyond the continental shelf. An hour later we adjust our course again, as the current wheels around and is now pushing on our port side. We've either entered a bending elbow of the Stream, sweeping southward for a short distance, or perhaps one of the countercurrents that oppose the flow. At 10:30 the southward nudge is even stronger, and the water temperature is down to 67.1-a cold-core eddy outside the main path of the Stream. The eddy is clearly marked on the satellite imagery downloaded from the Web that morning. "It's a different world east of the Gulf Stream, no?" Cannicioni points out. Yes, it is.