"Surely, we can," I say, smiling. So many of us and all and my coracle left me and Leah in close quarters, but when we pull, some having their feet dug into the sand and some wading into the sea, it stretches out long and fine. That's my girl, light and shining and balanced on the grey waters, and I pat the hull.

"North, then?" and I look that way and there is a smudge or a cloud or a rising line on the horizon, and I can set a course by it. It's as if tehre were a track through the waves, the hull is cutting through so smooth and fine, and we are on our way (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/405996.html).