Round Cove
It is low tide as I enter the cove so I can stand with my boat as I ready her for our day on the water. I start by splashing her bright work clean and washing the muddy drag marks off her hull. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a dirty sailboat. While it’s true that I keep her in a swamp, that’s a luxury compared to leaving her on grass, which would stain her bottom, or putting her on sand, which microscopically scrapes her paint, and I beach her enough as it is. I’d give Sea Gypsy a mooring, but for fear, she’d be stolen. Doesn’t take much to cut a mooring line. My forefathers taught me that, so I keep her in the swamp. There aren’t many who’d dare swim that muck except for us swamp rats.
Sea Gypsy’s a classy lady, a working Chatham cat boat fastened together at the fa
