Trying to fix the wind indicator turned into a slightly bigger adventure than planned. To troubleshoot it, I had to spin the boat through a few circles, which is fine in principle, except that early-morning me had completely forgotten the fishing lines were still out the back. The next thing I knew, I had successfully hooked something. Not a fish. My own rudder.

Two full fishing rigs were wrapped around the back of the boat in a way that looked like I had set a trap for myself. So down came the sails, on went a pair of shorts, and over the side I went with a knife. There is something about floating beside your own boat in the middle of the ocean, sawing at tangled fishing gear, that really invites you to reflect on your life choices for a minute or two.

About half an hour later, everything was clear. No damage to the boat, which is the part that matters, just a perfectly respectable fishing setup that has now been donated to the sea gods. Call it a tribute, and move on.