Reach for the Taut Rope

Skipp heard the squeak and strain of the taut rope as it pulled on the pier holding the forty-foot schooner wobbling in the Santa Cruz Harbor. He had just finished sanding a ten-foot section of wooden rail, and he was dipping the hog's hair brush into the varnish when he heard the sound of a young woman's voice calling his name.

He had dreamed about meeting a beautiful woman in such a place. "So you live on a boat," she said. "Oh, we have got to see that."

Varnish doesn't pine, so he kept his...