It has been a very long day, with a previously short evening, and after three multi-hour Skype calls to different parts of the world, your correspondent is in need of a pick-me-up. There’s the cold Izze soda awaiting in the corporate lounge, and probably some cheese and crackers. But after a day like this what energizes the soul even more is a bit of Wicked sex.

We have been privileged to cross oceans with some of the most alluring of vixens. Sensuous, powerful rides that set your blood pounding at the hint of what awaited in a few moments  as the curl of a wave approached, then charged to the bottom only to pull up at the last instant, so as to be ready to power up and go again.

But none of those shapely lasses had this type of figure.

None of them held the promise of the secret pleasures hidden in these sinuous lines. Imagine: halfway from Bay of Islands, New Zealand, to Fiji, the wind has gone southeast blowing 20 to 25, gusting 30. Seas are 8 to 15 feet (2.4 to 4.5 meters). With the engines ticking over at 1800 RPM, they are barely heard, speed is 12 knots steady until the stern starts to lift, and then the rush begins. Think about what it will feel like as this Wicked FPB accelerates to 15, 17, even 19 knots on the moderate waves. At some point, you are never sure when, the perfect wave, the one that has the correct shape and angle, catches her just right, and you hurtle down the face, the GPS quickly climbing into the low 20s. All the while the autopilot hardly blinks, the drinks, cheese, and crackers remain aloof. Now that, is a thrill.

Fantasy you say. We invite you to watch video of the Wicked’s antecedents with a bit of sea and some breeze behind, and then scale what you see up a little.

Time to go back to work.