The sun peeks over the horizon like a lovely woman rising from her bed, yet on the lakes there are long shadows still casting the memory of the dwindling night.   I sit in the ****pit of my boat and perform all those small but necessary tasks that to the man who doesn't sail (poor creature that he is) seem so trivial.   She is a good boat and has served me well over the last four decades.   Faithful and strong like a good wife, we have shared a moment or two that brings a smile to my lips and cause me to reflect on similar past mornings like this.   The wind is light because the land and sea temperatures are roughly equal; but the mare's tails in the sky promise a blow as the day reaches maturity.  I test the radio, check the electrics and safety gear out of a habit borne of many years that  has become second nature.   The rigging looks sound and the mast stands straight and true.  I lovingly wash off the echoes of birds that rented my decks and left only a deposit without paying in full measure.  The iron topsail is burbling quietly on the stern as there is not yet enough wind to unfurl and spread her lovely wings.   Casting off the lines I feel the anticipation of having my girl transport me to that special place in both our hearts where we move and breath as one.   The shore slips further away and wraith like tendrils of steam lift from the decks as the sun strengthens and warms the air around us.   With the tiller lashed toward an open sea and the motor pushing the hull ever onwards, we are almost ready to let her sails take flight.   There is time for a coffee to help fight off the last of the night's chill and the kettle was set to boil half an hour earlier.   Going below I select a mug and heap in three spoons of raw sugar and a good measure of coffee, taking it black as is my custom.  Standing on the companionway steps I can see over the cabin to the course ahead whilst I sip the strong, sweet brew and contemplate my life thus far.   Finishing the last dregs from my mug, I replace the cup and step up on the cabin, running my hand affectionately along the boom, feeling for any irregularities in the track.   As expected, all is in order and the wind has now started to ruffle the water.   "It's time", I tell my darling "It's time.   You have been patient and unselfish and now you can fly."  

                                BUGGER....Forgot the sails!!!!

I had a great picture of you sailing off into the horizon with your wonderful description of your yacht and everything........

Then MY sails had the wind blown out of them