“Why didn’t you anchor in the harbor?” I asked. “The jollyboat’s there,” he pointed. “That’s where I started my search. Besides, she’s small enough that she moors just fine in shallow waters. Look at her. Isn’t she great?” Nicholas was beaming. We splashed through the tide and climbed the jack ladder up the side of the ship to the deck. Nicholas bounded across the ship’s waist, throwing his arms wide in presentation. Still catching my breath I managed to gasp, “It’s wonderful.” A single deck stretched the entire length and width of the ketch. Though it was easy to see that the vessel was old and worn, it was well taken care of. The boards of the deck were scoured clean with tar tightly sealing every seam. It looked as though it had once been painted black, but it was faded to a charcoal grey. Two masts stretched from the deck. The canvas sails had been patched in several places.
