Zen Again 92.

 

I wolf down my breakfast. Prompted by a knock, upon Stargazer's stern. Noah, from the capitainerie, has arrived bearing bad news and good: The berth owner may return today; however, a vacant space has been found for us to move into.

Noah has chosen his moment well. The shriek, of the wind, has temporarily subsided to a low moan; and the, notorious, La Vie tide is slack, it being low water.

The last of my muesli is swiftly despatched. I clamber on deck. Buttered baguette in one hand, coffee mug in the other. Gratefully accepting Noah’s offer of help, with Stargazer's lines. For the berth is narrow and the breeze is setting us down, toward our neighbour.

Sea-savvy hands grip Stargazer's gunwhale, holding her bow upwind. Her skipper applies enough throttle, to give her steerage. The resulting propwalk* usefully tightening her turn. Stargazer arcs off the berth and reverses smartly out of the aisle.

Noah greets Stargazer, one pontoon downstream. Handling the bow, whilst her skipper secures a midship line. The flurry, of urgent activity, is over. Peace resumes. 

*Propwalk: A turning effect, caused by the propeller’s rotation. In Stargazer’s case, this carries the stern to starboard, in reverse. The direction in which we wished to travel.