A. G. Harrison 
In The Morning 

Between catnaps all day long, he checked his position several times an hour to make sure he was on course. Twice he’d had to take up the slack when one of the main sails pulled its lines loose, but this was normal when he was carrying this much sail and the wind was this strong. He loved to push his boat against the sea like this and wondered why he didn’t do it more often. If he would have set the spinnaker he could have gone even faster, but he’d lose some control if he did and if truth be known, he wasn’t in that big of a hurry. The sun was turning his neck and legs into lobster meat without the canopy, but he didn’t feel a thing.