susys running away to sea

"The rigors (sic) of an expeditionary lifestyle"

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Sat 19 August

At anchor in Maskell's Harbour.

A launch comes real close - they're setting a morring where we are.

"I have 60 feet of chain and I don't know where it is," warns Jack. They let go the mooring line - splash.

"A*****s," mutters J, as they go away. "If it catches on our anchor, I'll cut the f****r loose."

Not his usual language, but can't say I blame him.

Me: read a fat book all day - it's the length that matters, not the quality. Though this one, Fatal Flaw , is good, as it happens. Skinny sundipped in the cockpit, because

J: slept 16 straight hours, barring a short interlude to switch between upstairs and downstairs.

J in sleep mode


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