It is Friday morning. Eight o-clock. The rain is pouring down in Spangereid in Norway and it has been doing so for many hours.
According to plan we ought to be busy preparing for a day’s sailing up along the Norwegian coast for an easterly wind.
But there is no wind at all. Instead the rain is teaming down. The puddles on land are so big that it it is difficult to decide where the quay begins and the dock ends.
Most of the crew are upstairs above ´Garnbua’, the fishing-gear shop in the harbour, and they are still sleeping peacefully.
Skipper tiptoes up the stairs and comes over to the table where I am sitting. He puts his head down close to mine and whispers: “Sailing: The fine art of getting wet, cold and ill...by slowly going nowhere...at great expense!"