Such splendour to the eye, when her belly fills the sky

A vision of beauty but a temperament quite feisty.

A consistent breeze and she fills with ease,

The crew is all smiles as we carve up the miles and our progress makes time fly by.

But when the winds drops, her good mood stops

In the gusts, then lows, her fury flows

But when the wind chooses to be fickle she becomes a particular pickle.

Her favourite trick, when all on deck is looking slick

Is to decide it is time to play

and get herself wrapped around the forestay

After 27hrs in, tempers wear thin, but the crew will not be beaten.

As she whips and beats, her anger eventually retreats.

Remarkably unscathed for so badly behaved

though never without a cut and a graze.

Finally, once tamed, she’s dropped down below

And the sewing machine is once more back on the go.

Her pristine panels are less and less

As a daily repair makes for a patchwork mess.

And although so trying she can be

We can never get truly angry

As when she behaves, we carve through the waves

And that is the beauty of life at sea.