Prologue from A Storm in Any Port
West Coast of Scotland – Fairly recently
The skipper, mate and two deck hands who made up the crew of the chartered yacht, were feeling the effects of their combined ages of more than 300 years, as they motored into Puilladrobhain on Seil, an island just off the west coast of Scotland. Although none of them would admit it, the day’s motor sail from Crinan had taken its toll on both bodies and minds.
The slightly corpulent, white haired skipper firmly believed he was a good sailor and had an inshore certificate to prove it. The smaller, wiry, pot-bellied mate was a first class sailor but had no certificate. The shorter of the two deckhands, the completely bald one with the little moustache and double chin, had always possessed enthusiasm way beyond his ability, but due to failing health was now virtually a…
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