The brawling sea: storm sailing the Indian Ocean

Esper’s bow disappeared under water, shooting the sea into the cockpit. I was astonished at how warm it was. Jamie released the sails, then furled them, to give the wind a smaller target. His hands bled from rope burns, and the din of whipping lines and snapping canvas made me flinch. But we were upright.
Who says cats can’t swim?

Esper came equipped with a swimming platform on the stern. Even so, it’s still a struggle to haul yourself up. For humans, there is a fold-down ladder. But cats don’t have our dexterity, so we added a rope ladder to make the job easier. The next question was would Millie be able to find and use the rope?
100% Cok: life on Rubbish Island

“This isn’t as bad as I expected,” I said to Jamie, as we sat on Esper in the slipway, waiting to be hauled out.
He didn’t bother to reply. We were coming to a rolling boil in the midday heat, and any attempt at conversation or movement was painful. Millie lay on the floor in the saloon with ears twitching. She began to pant and stared up at me through the hatch. What hell-hole have you brought me to now? she seemed to be saying.
My first book, sort of

I am thrilled to announce that my story, Nazar 72, has been published in Foreign Encounters, the third anthology from Writers Abroad, an online group of ex-pat writers.
Writers Abroad received 231 submissions of which they selected 95 for the anthology. And five of those contributions came from our very own Itinerant Writers Club. Well done to HelenM, HelenW, Bex and Jean for having their pieces published in the anthology too.