There's a price we pay for this fantastic life we're leading, and it's not just monetary. It's called "passages." Passages between places, transits that require we go out on the ocean -- the beautiful, stern, massive ocean that floods this Earth and separates these places. Sometimes, it's a big, flat sheet of turquoise blue, with dancing dolphin and gentle swells. And sometimes, it's angry and wet, a roller-coaster ride that goes on for days.

We left behind that lovely, benevolent ocean this morning, and traded it for free speed across the void and another one of those raucous rides. There's one place on this boat that seems benign and almost comfortable even when in rough seas, and it's the stern bunk, which is situated so it's occupant, if there's only one, is in the very centerline of the boat. Padded with pillows on all sides, it's amazingly comfy. So much so, that I was completely unaware that the wind and sea, which, when I handed the baton to Allan at 7:30 this morning were perky but well-behaved, had started acting up. He had to come roust me from my dreams to help him reef the sails, and I was stunned when I came out of the cave to a rollicking, wet cockpit and whitecaps covering the ocean, the wind speed a stiff 18 knots and steadily increasing.

So, we've been reefed all day, screaming along at a nice speedy clip, and are back on our Cokes and crackers diet since none of that gorgeous fish we caught yesterday sounds appetizing. Not to mention, being in the galley under these conditions is challenging; even filling a glass with ice and pouring a Coke can tax your patience and coordination. And let's not talk about going to the loo; that's a life-altering experience.

So we sit around and look at each other miserably, and have conversations like, "Who's idea was this again?" and "Do you EVER remember a GOOD sailing day on this trip?" and repeating things we've heard other sailors say about passages, "It's either all or nothing." There's either no wind and the sea is nice but the motor is running and the dollars are flowing out of your wallet, or the wind is up, and the seas as well, and being a human is less-than-fun. It's been so rare that we've had those perfect sailing days, the ones where the wind is steady from the aft beam, the sea has widely-spaced, shallow swells, the sun is shining and the boat is humming along without bone- crunching and rib-bruising twists and lurches.

But so it is, and in truth, we really are happy to pay the price -- it's all worth it to be here and to do what we're doing. The good thing is, as soon as we're safe in a harbor or an anchorage somewhere, have caught up on our sleep and had a nice dinner, we start to forget the passages, and it's not long before we start planning the next one. Go figure. It's an addiction, this life.