Ross was really laying into it. Meanwhile, I was struggling to muster the concentration to stay on the board, let alone find the good waves. I did manage to salvage a few fun waves between the prevailing pattern of cold induced incompetence and survival sailing. It was not a long session and I finally threw in the towel after mistiming a wave and being left swimming for shore. By the time I had removed myself from the rocks, my hands were so numb it was as if the fingers in my gloves belonged to someone else. With ice forming on my sail as it sat on the beach there seemed to be the potential to do real damage by going back out and keeping my hands cold. Usually I can recall specific waves from a session, but I can remember almost nothing about the actual windsurfing that day. All that remains is the memory of the cold. Even after I’d warmed up, my hands continued to weirdly tingle for two days afterwards. It was really fun to sail with Ross, had I been alone I’m not sure I would have even made it out of the house that day. It was savage, but great fun to sail such a rare set of conditions. And I can now claim to have been windsurfing on the day the sea froze.