Devin had meant to drop their jackets on the first level surface and head back up the companionway ladder, but he was stopped by the beauty of the boat’s interior. The ones he’d been in before were just daysailers: a fiberglass bunk covered in sailbags and old life vests, a cooler jammed into a corner and filled with beer, maybe a radio.
This was exquisite. There were teak decking and trim, brass fittings, and absolutely no straight lines. Everything was a curve, the joinery work was a thing of beauty. The wood was bright with multiple coats of varnish and smooth as no sander could achieve—it required decades of constant use and patient upkeep to make wood look like this.
He poked though the galley: top-loading fridge, a counter that lifted to reveal a three-burner propane stove, a small
