Fairytale little ship

My first sight of the pretty gaff rigged ketch was as she came round the corner by the docks, her main already flaked along the boom, her mizzen being hauled down, and inflatable fenders lashed down her topsides to protect the white painted mahogany. A beautiful sight - a traditional style boat, built less than ten years ago. A picture-book boat.

As they drew up to the long pontoon, I took the massive hairy bow rope and made it fast, the stern being secured by one of my future companions. The skipper was at the helm. Introductions were made - skipper K - ex-US army; Uncle Arthur - Geordie; Ace - dinghy instructor from Solihull.

As we said hello, I felt my glasses dangling from between my fingers snap in two - another omen?

Hastily, I pulled my prescription sunglasses from my bag and hoped for the best...

Down below, the boat's like a little country cottage - wooden beams, wooden floors, wooden everywhere, crimson upholstery, and framing the shiny pierced brass stove, even an early Adam-styple fire surround, complete with fluted columns and a hip-killer square edged corner to the outer edge of the mantelpiece; a U-shaped galley and a nav station with banks of display screens to satisfy a commercial aircraft. A nautical hymn ancient and modern.