Good quiet is getting hard to find.
Accuse someone of having poor skills as a sailor. Accuse them of being a lousy cook. Accuse them of stupidity. But, the worse thing you can do is stick the Jonah label on anyone. It's like a stripe of paint down your back. It holds and ruins your reputation.
All was well; it was spring in New England. Patience, abetted by some mumbling and stumbling, helped you get through.
Vendetta, my father told me, was an art invented by the Catalans. Hot, cold, mild, or spiced, Catalan's mastered it. That was where I left it until I moved to Maine. There I learned it was a bit more complicated.
The cunners lurked below. They swam near the rock recesses and around the pilings of the wharf where we were eating lunch.
Manhattan, by and large, is a grid. Except for some of the areas in the south of the island, navigation is by right and left turns. Street navigation then breaks down into east or west of Broadway. Or into what area you are going to; Meat Packer's district, Mid-town, the Garment District. The turns then followed by passages of long blocks. On moving to coastal Maine, I discovered that adequate roads and bridges were modern phenomena.
It's not always what we hope for.