It looks like rain

One of the great joys - and occasionally trials - of life afloat is that you are much more attuned and in harmony with the elements, as Jess Lloyd-Mostyn notes

- Jess Lloyd-Mostyn

Sometimes the life of a liveaboard sailor seems completely at odds with that of a landlubber: things that may seem simple in our boat lives may be infinitely more complex in a house. Likewise, there are subjects that appear trivial when you live on land, which are elevated to weighty matters when your home is a yacht.

Take the rain. In city life we glance at the raindrop-dashed window, we opt for water-resistant footwear and a jacket for our morning commute and automatically grab the umbrella idling by the front door on our way out. Bobbing at anchor, with all your portlights open for ventilation, the start of an unexpected shower triggers a flurry of activity. “Quick, shut the hatches!” I bark, as we run from one end of the boat to another closing them (in an order that may seem haphazard but relates to the size of each one and how destructive any water ingress beneath one would be), sliding our companionway hatches over and bolting upstairs, on deck, to grab the dry washing off the line.