Clipping, Dead Calm, and the Wake.

Crates and ballast are being shifted about. We’ve been round a calendar of taunting breezes, headwinds, and what old, crusty sailers would call the doldrums. Waiting around in windless waters has driven men mad. You stay busy. You coil and re-coil the rope. You roll and re-roll the canvas. You bail and bail again… and…