I entered my shop this morning to smell linseed oil, varnish, and wood shavings.
What I found most amazing was that so much agreement and unity had come out of such vigorous dispute.
The little boat did kind of look like a terrapin. It was a bit beamy and of a design almost guaranteed not to capsize. It was a perfect small tender for a larger boat. And a safe one for a couple of adventurous teens to explore the Harbor. I had enjoyed my time with the kids as they "helped" design the transom banner I'd carve for them.
It's been called prejudice, but it's loathing, and nothing is unreasoning or illogical about it. I came by the loathing step by step, day by day, and experience by experience.
Sunsets are an evanescent part of life. They come, linger a moment, and then are gone.
The little sloop Pussytoes was to get rechristened. Around the boatyard, we snickered. Who'd want to sail the on the Pussytoes?
To get somewhere by "going 'round Robinhood's Barn" was a favorite saying of the Cap'n and his family.
If not golden, silence can be precious
Spinney knew that keeping a small boatyard working during the winter months is not easy.
Unlike a three-year-old, I realized that a good captain doesn't trust a green hand without verifying the work done and undone.