To see a sailing boat out of the water is like seeing a bird on the ground- it happens, sometimes, but it’s not the place where it’s supposed to be. It’s also like looking at an iceberg, in that much of the volume of the vessel is hidden, submerged beneath the waves. Our schooner had a deep belly, and a ten foot draft. She looked gargantuan on dry land, massive, yet also fragile in a strange way.
A sailboat is equal parts bird and fish, dream and reality. In this chapter, we see the schooner as she truly was: a contradiction and a unity, a magical tantric vessel and a rusty old hunk of fiberglass, nothing and everything all at once.
Read all about it here.