he two happiest days in a sailor’s life have been said to be the sunshine morning when delivery is taken and the blessed afternoon when the boat is finally sold. To make selling a cause for celebration might be considered cynical. Perhaps relief would be a better description. After all, there’s always a reason for parting with a boat: penury, family pressure, change of heart or just plain force majeure. Each may feature, but although I’ve always been pleased enough, I can’t recall ever handing over a boat without suffering a nasty pang of nostalgia. I could hardly bear to row away, my 1911 pilot cutter, but the wheel had turned full circle and I had to move on.
