hanks to a warm sunny day our terminal passage down the Tamar River towards Voyager Boat Yard for the winter lift out felt frustratingly inappropriate. Soft winds and a blue sky beckoned a final liberating reach across the Channel. Later that night as I lay in bed, however, any lingering regret was crudely buried as 50-knot gusts rumbled up the valley and wrestled the trees with their familiar winter violence. We due to working abroad, and suffered the anxiety of lying in bed as the barn shook and our tin roof kept us awake as it was machine-gunned with rain, so we were glad to have made it out before this storm hit.
