Come in Fortune, your time is up

We leave Cuttyhunk on Friday, and although there is wind, we motor gently across the flat sea in the sunshine. I am at the helm all day - just happy for this last bit of the trip to sit there. We turn into the entrance to Narragansett Bay and by 4 oclock in the afternoon, as the clouds start to gather for the forecast wind and rain for tomorrow, we pick up the mooring off J's mother's house, load the dinghy and J rows us to the beach.

Fortune is salt-encrusted, her hull streaked with the grime of months, her sails tucked away in their covers, and for the moment, at rest on her tether.

For the time being, at least, I turn back into a land creature ...