Russell aimed the bow into the wind and set the engine to idle. With the ease of a half year of practice he raised the main and cleated off the sheet. He still hadn’t run the jib halyard back to the cockpit and he hurried forward to haul it up before the boat slipped off the wind. The big foresail unfurled with a loud snap.
The breeze was fresh without being strong or cool, a near perfect sailing day.
Tying off the line, he hung the loose tail in a quick coil and trotted back to the cockpit. He killed the engine and kicked the tiller over with his knee.
In one smooth sweep the Lady slid from loud vibrations and diesel fumes into the solid, silent pull of the world’s winds. She heeled over and surged forward—a tug deep in his gut that made him feel everything would be okay. He’d come a long wa……
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