The waves lapped lazily at the stony beach, nary a sign that a storm had rolled past the night before and torn my boat from its mooring. Above, seagulls soared, their screeches carried on the softly blowing wind. The old man, a grizzled character with wild, grey hair and beard and a scar across his cheek, sighed and shook his head. ‘Sorry, lad, but yer boat’s gone. Could be anywhere. Like as anything been smashed upon some cliffs. Waters hereabouts are treacherous.’
I looked out over the ste