Lucky Jack. Lucky Dave

A 3d or 4th time through, and better every time. What happiness, to start this again on a fine spring London day.

‘Sheet home. Sheet home. Hoist away. Cheerly there, in the foretop, look alive. T’garns’l sheets. Hands to the braces. Belay.’

A gentle push from above heeled the Sophie over, then another and another, each more delightfully urgent until it was on steady thrust; she was under way, and all along her side was a run of living water.

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