Windcatcher was a yare vessel, sleek in all her trimmings, perched high on rolling waters like a falcon prepared for flight. And just as the bird-of-prey lifts off suddenly, leaving earth far behind, so too could Windcatcher, who sliced through the skies as easily as she did the seas below.
Today he felt particularly pleased with her, with her white canvas sails snapping in a brisk snit and new paint preening along the freshly-swabbed deck. Oh she had a rare, proud spirit, she did! And what need had he of a wife when he served a mistress so truly fair?
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