After a few hours of motoring at the start, I hoisted the sails, and Amy managed to make 4 knots even with very little wind. The wind died down even more, so we were moving very slowly. But I didn’t mind, because the area with the shitty weather toward the end of the trip was supposed to be closer to the Scottish coast rather than further east. So I figured: if I arrive later, I might actually be better off. Of course, that turned out not to be true, but at the time it sounded reasonable to me. On the second day, there was so little wind that you could see right through the water—and thus also the dolphins swimming under the boat and playing with Amy. We were still making 1.5–2 knots, after all.
