A black squall cloud and a splash of sunshine banish the morning sea fog and herald the arrival of twenty five knots of north easterly breeze . I awoke to the mournful lowing of ships out in the London River. Basso profundo fog horns reverberating eerily in the opaque stillness of dawn.
This morning the forecasts are all in agreement. The wind will blow hard. Now, up on the sea wall, beyond the sheltering ramparts of the creek, the wind turbines have begun to turn - gathering momentum as the breeze builds.
For once, Stargazer's sprayhood is up. Sheltering me as I sit in the cockpit, savouring the roar of the wind and the lap of the water. Reacquainting myself with the unique sensations of being afloat. That sense of freedom to wander, to linger or to simply be.
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