Life in a Rubber Duck

If I had to sum up what living inside a boat is akin to, the title would likely be the best I could pull off the top of my head.

Everything's stable and serene when you're sitting on the edge of the bath.

Plenty of warmth, sitting stable, the only reminder of where you are, the gentle creaks and taps of the wind as it blisters past on its daily commute.

Then you get plopped into the water and cling to the side.

You rock gently, barely even noticing where you are most of the time unless the tap's running or someone opens a window, but sooner or later you'll drift off into the centre and Neptune'll jump in for a wash.

Before you know it you're rocking and rolling about, barely able to stand, headbutting the walls, kneeing the tables and the toilet - one of life's simplest pleasures - becomes a battle of wills.

I don't really get seasick, so the rolling doesn't bother me too much when I'm seated and my stomach is full.

It even has some benefits when getting to sleep, the rocking brings back the warmth of the cradle and the comfort and serenity of infancy as you drift off into soggy dreams at the end of a shift on deck.

But heaven forbid you wake mid-way through your sleep in desperate need of a piss.

A force 6 toilet-dash is a trial fit for Hercules.

Tired and sunburnt you awake, the hissing and roaring of the wind a prophetic decree as to the pain you must endure if you're semi-conscious brain takes a misstep.

Knee Bruises, Shin Scuffs, Headbutts and Stubbed Toes are the four horsemen of the night reprieve in rough seas and a boat is a small space, too small for their mercy.

Cooking's a little better if you have a decent set-up.

Hook on, perch your back on the wall and the gimballed cooker'll keep you free of most mishaps in most weathers.

Playing with knives in rough weather is probably only a good idea if you hate your own hands though I would suspect, so probably best to prepare some snacks ahead of time for a blower.

Mechanical work is probably as you would expect.

A simple irritant when needed at sea when the weather's calm, but Headbutt Central - Population Migraine when weather gets malicious.

Above deck it's a little different.

Long stints of looking at waves give you space to think and when things are calm and the weather's bright, it brings about a serenity and peace that would stir envy in a Buddhist temple.

When it's blowing a bit harder, it can be a trial, but keep her reefed and you can surf the waves and pound away at that ocean like it owes you money.

Extreme roughness is as bad, if not worse than you may expect, especially if it sneaks up on you somehow and you flurry about getting the reefs in and trim right, but otherwise is just about endurance.

Give ample respect to the waves and they'll carry you home, even if they do so a little carelessly.

The worst, in my opinion, is the extremely calm weather.

Nothing says sailing like putt-putting along on engine with your sails out full to catch every errant cough, knowing you're going to be behind schedule and all the while wondering what arcane realms the weather men pulled that force 4 prediction from.

I'll expand on all this in future as there is a lot to say about life aboard that cannot be summarised and many tips and tricks that can make the worst of it a whole lot more managable.

It may seem like I'm being somewhat negative about the experience as a whole, but honestly, despite the bruising, the battering, the tossing and turning, the constant dampness, the overbearing sun and all the rest, it is tons of fun and I wouldn't trade it back for life ashore.

It may be chaotic at times, but no paradise is without pain and I prefer the paradise I've found to any I've lost.