Friday the 13th we scoffed. "You don't have a problem with setting sail on Friday the 13th, do you Dave", I asked? Several days before our departure I sounded out what Dave's attitude to setting out on the 13th. He was cool about it. Well whatever you think of Friday the 13th, whether it is unlucky or not, we were about to embark on our first day sailing together on Compromise. We should have taken head of the weather conditions because sure enough we walked or sailed rather right into a Force 7 wind and very rough sea conditions. Not one hour from port Dave managed to knock the newly installed lamp from the wall. The bilge pump broke, and all manor of mayhem broke loose down bellow when we raised the main sail and start beating into 10 foot swells. The contents of the galley locker under the stove spilled out onto the floor. The grilling pan skidded onto the floor. Even the sailing Almanac managed to leap from its little purpose built spot on the port side shelf. In a word there was shit everywhere and that is not even mentioning the forward cabin. We limped back into port with only a reefed jib out, tired and as the case was with me, more than a little sea sick. We could not even get a reef in the main. As I would find out a lot later, Fridays were a bad day to start a voyage.