Things are OK here. We’re loping downwind at 8 knots under twin poled out headsails, across iridescent and sparkling seas. Whitecaps break noisily on either side of the cockpit and send schools of flying fish skittering off.
After pancakes and a beer, with Stephen Bishop doing Brahms Haydn variations, it is a delight to just sit in the cockpit and feel part of it all.
You couldn’t ask for much more.
Dare I say it, if this breeze holds in we might be in Trinidad in 2 days.