When I was 3 and twenty I sailed out of Ft Lauderdale on a Morgan 22 sloop with 2 equally rowdy friends, Bob and Dirty Ed.We planned to be in the Bahamas for a month, and therefore brought along 8 cases of beer. On the second day we finished up the beer about 5 in the afternoon. While standing on the gunwale taking a piss and gripping the main sheet in one hand and his unit in the other, Ed lost his footing and fell onto the tiller, snapping it in half. This is some indication of what kind of sailors we were.

I remember one day, temperature about 90, not a cloud in the sky and the ocean flat as a pond, and not a breath of wind. Ed was standing at the tiller and cursing at the top of his lungs " Godd**n flat f*c*ing ocean! Gimmee some motherf*c*ing wind!!" And Bob says"nice language,Ed. Why don't you try saying a nice prayer to God instead."

"God?!" shouts Dirty Ed. "Hell, I'm God!! Send me some wind!! I command it!!"

Next morning we get hit with a squall with 6 foot seas and blasting wind and rain so hard you can't open your eyes to look windward. Bob turns to Ed and says" Here's that wind you ordered, God!"