It’s a strange time, as I’m having to re-evaluate a lot of things I thought about myself. This week, after twenty years of deadline rushes, mood swings, lost keys and unreplied emails, I was diagnosed (against my every insistence at the start of the process) with ADHD. There’s nothing: just me and the crabs, in their invisible millions. It’s a perfect arena for introspection, scored by the lashings of rain on a hard metal deck. And then, beyond the chipped paint of the gunwales, the infinite ocean. It’s just me, attended by a silent retinue of winches, hooks, scratched plastic tubs and battered steel tables. It’s only when night falls, the sun like a pool of something molten yet cold on the grey horizon, that I realise just how alone I am on the boat.
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