WE DECIDED TO WALK back to the marina and see if anyone could give us a ride out to Ben’s boat. I kept my eyes on the beach in search of seashells to add to my collection, while Mrs. Moto trailed behind me, keeping the seagulls in check.
I was picking through a pile of shells when Scooter stumbled into me, knocking me down. “Sorry about that,” he said as he helped me up. “I was so caught up watching the racing that I didn’t notice where I was going.”
I held my hand over my eyes to minimize the glare of the sun bouncing off the water. I could see half a dozen small boats weaving through the bay, adjusting their sails as they changed direction.
“What are those?” I asked. “I didn’t know they could make sailboats so small.”
“They’re Optimist dinghies. Kids use them to learn how to sail.” H
