There’s a beat to each swell, a timpani of halyards slapping like glass shattering over and over, the vibrations a shudder that thrums the soul. A groan, the tiller resists, then lifts, lifts, lifts. Bracing, she wails her fury, plunging into a gravity well. Play the sheet, forget subtle, she’s running hard, tippy, shouldering aside the foam…
The orchestration is Wagnerian, the subtext fear. Gurgles, the shush of a hisshisshisshiss. Listen. Listen hard. She sees it, feels it, the wall. Slam it now. A bolt of silence careens and leans and the purr of agony screams her length.
She’ll fight you, if you let her. Don’t, don’t, give in. Now, go now, release it. She’ll slice you headless on the lean, tuck it tight, into your gut muscles quivering, skin slicing blood greasing, let’er slide.
She’s got the bit, rooster-tailing, slamming, groaning coming about. Pow pow pow she swings her wings, accelerating into the broad reach.