t the end of every sailing season I always make myself a promise, and every year for as long as I can remember I break it. The promise is that this coming winter I will go sailing. I always deeply regret when another sailing year is coming to an end. I don't want to let go; let the magic continue, let's not be slaves to the relentless turning of the pages of the calendar. The winter months can throw up some splendid crystal clear
