More log entries up.
Here's a taste:
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Up on deck Brian was heartily enjoying his stint surfing Faith in seas that had grown to twenty feet, winds that had increased to 40 knots. Miles were being sliced off faster than limbs in a Star Wars movie. Then a sonorous rumble from behind that made my ears perk: something big moving in mercurially a wall, no, a bastion of water thirty feet high! The stern rose; through the hatch I watched Brian's face go tight with concentration; Eric's leg, the only part I could see, stiffened against the side of the cockpit; I braced the computer in my lap with one hand and grabbed a bulkhead with the other. The bow was dragged backwards up the slope of the wave-face and our momentum pressed us all hard against whatever holds we had. My stomach got that weightless butterfly effect like when the rollercoaster begins its steep descent. The stern pitched forward slightly, bow laboring to come up....and....making it....as we reached the summit of the wave. The froth boiled up over both gunrails the bow rose level with the stern and we were all forced to lean still further as the G-forces bore us back. Faith shot along the top of that wave for an eon, a little blue cork on the precipice of a waterfall. Our breathing was all exhale through lips pressed firmly together. And then the stern gradually dropped, the bow going high, Faith slipping backwards as the wave, having had its way with her, gently lay her in the comfortable trough of its passing. "SEVENTEEN POINT SIX!!!!" Eric broke into the mystic reverie of motion, "Guys, we just got seventeen point six!!"
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