Afew years back, I was sitting in the cabin reading. It was late summer and dark so it must have been late in the day too. I'd been singlehanding and it hadn't been particularly pleasant weather. Finally the rain which had been threatening for the previous few hours began to fall with a reassuring rhythm on the boat roof. At that stage there was a knock on the cabin roof, which as any singlehander moored in an isolated rural spot will recognise, is not the most comforting of sounds. Not that I needed to be concerned. My visitor was a young woman - though for the purposes of this story, which isn't about gender, she could just as easily have been a bloke.
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