Breaking through

It was a wild night. The Vernal Equinox is nearly upon us; 0844 on Monday 23 September 2013, if I've read the information correctly. As a boy I read about sailors and the dangers of the equinoctial gales. I doubt that last night's storm was actually a gale, as the wind didn't sound that strong.

However, the rain was certainly heavy and persistent, when I heard it after being woken by the loud thunder, and then kept awake for a while by lightning flashes and further rolls of thunder. The wind drove some water under the front door. The builder had wanted to put some sort of sill type thing which we declined. I can tolerate a little bit of water once in a while on the tiles, and not have to step over something every time I go through the door.

The storm had blown itself out by morning. Not enough for a colourful sunrise. A bit more than half an hour after sunrise I went for a run, and as I came to the waterfront at Snells Beach, the sun was high enough to cast some, albeit weak, light across Kawau Bay. The end of the cliff on which is our place is just a large dark mass in this picture.

I retained my jinxing power this morning. I decided to watch the America's Cup racing, and instead found that it had been cancelled. This time because the wind was from the wrong direction. No attention will be paid by me at all tomorrow morning. I promise.

I want to say that I was impressed with the sportsmanlike, gentlemanly and basically generous and appropriate comments of Sir Ben Ainslie after yesterday's racing. Such a stark contrast to the strutting crowing of the skipper of the Oracle boat. Ainslie wants to win, but he doesn't feel any need to disparage his opponents. I would that all were like him.

I am always deeply ashamed when a New Zealand crowd boos a goal-kicker as he is kicking, or worse boos a player because of who he is rather than what he does. Such boorishness is what convinces many to dislike team sports.