Sitting on my porch, listening to the whistling wind, I recall a time not long past. I would often sit as far up the main mast as possible. This gave me a wide view of the ship below me. When I started off I would pull extra duty to stay out of the rigging and for some time my world was down there. It was an interesting life. The days would be filled with work and rarely did my gaze wander to the ocean all around me. It was as if my whole world lay within the boundaries of the wood as surely as the Great Fish the watery firmament. After a time, though, I tired of the conversations and intrigues of my companions and sought refuge in locations removed from their machinations. One of my best companions sought the comfort of the bowsprit because it lay so far forward the boat, but my stomach tended to be uncomfortable in such constantly varying movement. Strange it was that this should be so, I nevertheless found comfort such that it was in the sea. There was a camaraderie amongst us, as s...