‘Shearwater’, a masterpiece, still sails the seas. My father made certain she would be indestructible.
Some time ago, she was ambushed by an unseasonable storm, and swept offshore. I eventually caught a glimpse of her hull, poised – vertically – above the waves. Never before had I seen an airborne sailing boat. For two hours she was tossed about like a twig; tumbled up and down a rocky beach; and finally dumped just below high-water mark. I expected to recover little more than kindling; but instead found a whole vessel, with a single dent at the base of the centre-board casing. It was a lesson to remember. I had forgotten about the skill – the unshakeable integrity – of her maker.
From: My Father as Mariner
