Everything

A sail with R and E who had come to view the miracle that is my boat. No sooner were we out the harbour than a bank of haar arrived; we could barely make out land 100 yards behind us. E, already nervous about the whole expedition, was for heading back immediately. R espied blue sky above and was of the view that it might be a temporary inconvenience. We sailed along the coast, keeping Newhaven just in sight and the sun began to burn it off. We surmised that everything was going to be alright after all and we duly managed a fine little sail - and after a while there was a good breeze to chuff us along.
Back to lounge on the grass outside the Gallery. Will everything really be alright? Martin Creed says so. But maybe it's meant ironically? I've photoshopped the sky to fit in with that reading. That's beyond the abilities of these artists bods. It was really quite blue and unthreatening.
Cripes! Five thirty pm - the sun is well over the yardarm. Break out the rum!