The wind is sitting at about 25 knots, and I’m 15 miles north of Padstow, but the tide is against me. Although I’m making good speed (4 knots), I just can’t point. So, I put in a tack, and it takes me almost 180° around due to the tide. I’ve missed the tide and will have to sit it out till midnight when I can head to shore. It’s going to be slow, but I know I can do it. I’ve already lost my engine and most of my battery power. I’m only using battery to power my navigation lights, but luckily there’s not a boat in sight, so I’m not too worried.
I’m back to old-school navigation so I head down below to fill in the log and mark my position on the chart, and that’s when it happens. I feel something, and the boat starts to tip. I make a desperate dash for the tiller. I’m too late; the force of the knockdown throws me across the boat, and I hit my head on the bulkhead by the window. I scream in pain, but no one hears.
I’m alone on a boat miles out to sea. I fall as rights herself, landing painfully. For a moment, my whole world