Lone sailors are stchoopid

Well I've been out for over a week, still smiling, but it's been pretty tough. First few days had very little wind so I gradually put more sail up to try and get over two knots and finally made the mistake of leaving the whole main up overnight. My first solo squall hit at 4am and was a shocker. It blew the wind direction and speed instrument from the top of the mast, so it was dangling on it's cable. At first light got the sail reefed just before the next squall. Since then it's been light winds, squalls, head winds, the worst seas i've had so far, very confused. Big confused breaking seas make life impossible for the little auto pilot, so I don't get to sleep much on some nights. Last night a big squall caught me by surprise, and half way through a change of tack. It should have come from behind, but it came from in front with a wind change. It's awful holding onto the wheel, hoping nothing goes wrong. With a crew you can cope with so much more, and you get to enjoy watching them struggle with the pole on the foredeck, while they have the pleasure of knowing that you are more or less dry and certainly less likely to be knocked overboard than they are. There's the biggest scary thought, going overboard. Even with a crew you will be lucky to get back on the boat. With sails poled out in a good breeze it takes a bit to stop the boat and turn, then going back up into the sea could take an hour to win what you just did in 5 or 10 mins. Alone, you can be quite sure the boat will not turn around for you. Here's another thing to worry about. I set to catching squid at night and found it easy. Different species from at home, most of them have short tentacles, but one, only small, but with very long tentacles was very different. He did not want to stay in the bucket and sulk, tentacles were shooting out like iron rods, gripping edges and up he went. Beak pulsing in and out, he was quite agressive, and his eyes were huger than huge, and bluer than blue. The most scarey thing about this tiny monster was the tips of his long tentacles. Instead of suckers he had hooks, lots of them, and sharp, they slip straight inside your skin and hold on. Imagine a large one of them throwing his hooks into the cockpit! Or even a few hundred little ones tearing at your flesh as you watch the boat sail away. Here's another one. I keep sailing over volcanos and was wondering if some were still alive and what if they decided to let out a huge gas eruption? Under me? Gas would come up and Ellida would go down.
Here's a nice thing amongst the gloom. Small tuna are jumping all around, and have been for a day. They were leaping even higher in the squall, I thought they might have been laughing, not sure. Still a lot of the ocean is basically desert, so it's amazing to see so many fish.
I'm hoping to stop at Palmerston Island tomorrow for a much needed rest.