A Bumpy Reentry
Motorsailing along on north-northwesterly course under overcast skies through which a weak, northern sun is trying to burn. It’s dry. It’s also cold: in the low 30s. Boogie and I are on watch, which means he’s down below at the navigation table snoozing. It’s too cold to write in the cockpit so I’m sitting on the top step of the companionway, out of the light breeze (created mostly by the forward motion generated by our engine) in the little cuddy…