Sea Over Bow by Linda Kenyon

Sea Over Bow by Linda Kenyon

Author:Linda Kenyon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Signature Editions
Published: 2018-11-06T17:35:14+00:00

June 6

Day 16

Of course it doesn’t last. The wind has picked up again and shifted to the southwest. Now the waves have thousands of miles to build, and build they do. We are heading northeast, so we’re taking them on the stern, which is not very comfortable. The wind and the waves continue to build through the day, and by late afternoon, we’re wallowing along with two reefs in the main and just a little genoa out — and the stormsail too, in an attempt to keep the boat steady. But it doesn’t work. We continue to wallow sickeningly, except when two or three waves combine into one big one that sends us slewing from side to side.

This won’t do. Chris keeps trying to raise somebody, anybody on the SSB to get weather information, but no one responds. We alter course to the southeast so we’re taking the seas on the aft quarter rather than the stern. The waves are now pounding against the side of the boat. I’m not sure this is a big improvement.

We eat a cold supper, then Chris goes down for his pre-watch nap. I decide to make myself a cup of tea — a small enough comfort as darkness falls. I brace myself against the wall in the galley and put the kettle on — the stove is gimballed, so it stays more or less level as we pound along, and the kettle is clamped to the burner, just in case. While I wait for the water to boil, I get out a cup, pour some milk into it, put a teabag in. Carefully, carefully, waiting until we are between waves, I pour the water into the cup, but just then a big wave slams into us. I watch in despair as a line of milky tea runs down the front of the counter and across the floor. All I want is a cup of tea. Is that too much to ask?

I take my half-full cup of tea above deck and carefully, carefully reach for my iPod. One of the earplugs lands in my cup of tea. That can’t be good. I put it in my pocket to dry and stare gloomily at the rough, slate-grey sea, covered with whitecaps as far as the eye can see, except in the distance where it fades into the slate-grey sky.



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