Asante - The never ending poem

Day two is almost over. Life is settling down. Last night we wallowed down the coast, as no wind for sails was found. Today it has been fishing talk, of whoppers that we’ll land. But while Nick and James are confident, I’m a sceptical deck hand. For I’ve heard of many catches made by both experienced and not. And to me the deciding factor is it luck, a simple true long shot. But all that aside the winds are up. Happy is the crew. As yachts disperse we see friends less. And radio calls are few. Paella is in the oven now. We eat at the end of day. But let’s be honest the talk will be of the one that got away.