A wicked wind blows

Paul is 350 nautical miles out of Lisbon. This afternoon he popped the assymetrical spinnaker to catch a freshening easterly. It all seems quite fucking felicitous. Meanwhile, here at Camp Polarity HQ, I have caught the sniffles, which appear to be freshening into a force 5 cold. This morning I biked to a yacht supply company in Port Vell purchase a winch handle, and choked on scooter smoke all the way back. Can't wait to get to Lisbon and take the Biscay punishment I so justly deserve. Considering his revised arrival time, it appears as though I may have to sleep on the docks in Lisbon tomorrow until the boat arrives. Lovely...