The wonderful Pip Hare again. Best writer in the fleet…
At 2am, in the pitch dark with no moon and building breeze the tack line on my code zero broke. It went with a loud bang. I was at the mast already tucking in an extra reef as I had been watching the wind slowly building from my bean bag down below. This is often how I spend my nights. Sheltering from the cold and the wet down below, reclining on the floor, propped by a beanbag behind my head and staring at a screen full of numbers.
If the numbers are within limits I will sleep, setting my alarm for 30 or 45 minutes to wake up and check them again. If the numbers are marginal I doze, eyes closed and drifting in a nearly sleeping state, somehow with my mind relaxed yet alert to a greater angle of heel, the increased rush of water past the hull and indication that the breeze is on the rise.
