Stormy night, holy night

It was one of those watches this morning. I took over at two am, just in time to see the waxing moon sinking below the horizon,turning the sky and the sea black. At two thirty it was time for fun and games as a bank of heavy clouds caught up with us from behind. A leisurely fifteen knots of wind was on the increase, and I prepared to furl in some headsail. It started raining softly, but the wind also carried the warning sounds and smell of heavier rain and wind on the way. Within five minutes we had up to thirty knots of wind, and it started raining real hard.

I was moving fast between port side to release some sheet, and back to starboard to furl in more sail. I did this a few times until I was happy with the size of the sail. Too much sail and we can get dismasted, too little and we will go too slow, and the waves will break on to the back boat of the boat. You have to keep going though, but not too fast or too slow. It rained hard for about an hour. Quite a feeling to be out here alone on watch, and the skies opening up on you. Amidst the noise, the rain, and zero visibility I felt completely calm and focused, and utterly alone. I did what I had to do to keep us safe, and nothing else to do but to wait for the rain to subside.

We are in warm climes, and the rain was warm as well. I got thoroughly drenched, loving the sensation. I could have put on a raincoat, but at times it is good to get wet from head to toe. It makes me feel even more alive, dancing in the rain like no one is watching, and fortunately no one was watching. Closing my eyes and facing upwards, I felt at one with the elements, with the world, the universe, and with myself, all my senses invigorated. Wild and free. An hour later the wind and the rain started easing, and by four am I could unfurl the full headsail again. My daughter Maryna was five when she sailed with me from Cape Town to Belize. We used to chant and do our raindance, and when it came down, dance with jubilation. She is finishing school this year, and hopefully we'll do some sailing together again next year. Can't wait for my wife to join me as well in the not too distant future. And also experience a touch of pure madness.

I guess you were sound asleep at three this morning. In a nice, comfortable bed that is not moving all the time. When you go to sleep tonight, think of mad hatters like me that chooses to live differently.

Until tomorrow then.

Paul

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