Securely moored the little rowboat bobs sedately with the ebbing tide at the end of it's rope, quiet and calmly waiting for its captain to return and cast off. What adventures it could tell of fishing trips and stormy gales, of moonlight nights and skinny dipping, sunny days and happy children, of first catches and old salts.
Now an old man of the sea it's worn and weathered by the ocean it calls home. Faithful and sure it has carried its cargo safe from sea to shore and sea once more. Its oars no longer matching and its paint scuffed and bruised, still sea worthy, still loved by those that love the sea.