1210 hrs 11 June 2012
Another night watch and there is only Sulu, my imaginary helmsman, to talk to. It is the good ship Enterprise after all.
Jaz served us brie sandwiches for lunch. I had asked for cheese but she thinks she is serving the third course at a dinner party. I suspect that the brie is testing my anti-seasickness tablets to the full. Maybe I should get sponsored by a pharmaceutical company. But then no. They have lots of guinea pigs and rabbits to test their potions on.
My mind wanders to the sight of a large rabbit helming the yacht dressed in a smart waistcoat and singing "I’m late, I’m late for a very important date…". I must concentrate on my watch.
It is customary to wax lyrical about sailing – even night watches.
But for the sceptics amongst you let me give you some useful ammunition.
A night watch consists of sitting on a hard cockpit bench, its cold, its wet, you are staring at inky black, so dark you cant even see the waves around you, you are looking for the pin prick lights of approaching container vessels and trying to avoid the glare of your chart plotter but still fascinated by its vital information, the minutes tick by and you can’t wait for the end of your watch…
Imagine you are at home sitting in your favourite armchair watching the TV when a gunman burst in and puts you and the TV in the corner of the garden, and orders you to watch it without turning round or he’ll shoot your dog. He places a tea light at the end of the road and tells you it will turn into a train that will run you down the moment you lose concentration, or leave your chair for a second…that’s night watch!
I love night watches.
|Leaving Ushant behind…||Atlantic swell…|
|4 on 4 off – of course you are meant to be alert when you are ON watch!||Inky black, sometimes there is moonlight…|