MASTERCLASS
On one of my earliest trips as a professional sailor a wise old skipper gave me some advice at watch change. “Watch the green ones, they’ll rush for the leeward rail and if they aren’t clipped on there’s a strong chance they’ll go over,” he said.
“And what’s more, they won’t care if they do.”
I gulped and looked at my crew. Their faces resembled a Farrow and Ball paint chart: lichen green, skimmed milk white and ash grey. We were en route to Cherbourg from the Solent. By the time we got to the shipping lanes I only had one crew member left on the deck of the 80ft maxi, the rest were in their bunks.
Inglorious and debilitating as it is, the green monster of seasickness strikes indiscriminately.
