It is as if there's a conspiracy against me.
Sunday has been looking rubbish all week, but Saturday looked nice, so I made arrangements to have Monday off work, theory being we could sail to Fowey on the Saturday, shelter there through Sunday, then come back to Plymouth on Monday.
And then, slowly as the week wore on, Sunday has stayed bad, but Monday has gradually got worse and worse until the point where it looks no better.
Saturday still looks nice though. So it looks like this weekend will be yet another potter around the Sound, too wary to go anywhere because we won't have time to get back.
The plan is to drive straight down to Plymouth after tonight's gig so we're there first thing tomorrow.
I am wondering what the English Channel looks like with 30 knots of onshore wind. Not as bad as the Bristol Channel, I suspect, but I still rather suspect I shouldn't drag Dad out into it unless there really is no other choice.
And there is always another choice.