Midnight Oil

Back down to sunny Granton - my turn on bar duty. And a pleasant bright breezy evening it was. The big staid old club lounge even looked quite attractive - of course, there was no one there for ages so I was able to sit and read. And after that I opened a beer and read the marina regulations. Halyards must be frapped to stop mast rattle.
That was just one of many. Eventually after the last drouthy sailor was ushered out into the gloaming, I was able to shut the place up and frap my own rattle. Thirty minutes to midnight and a ferry was fully lit cruising down the Forth and from Mossmorran a huge flare hung above the scene. I wished I had my tripod, mind. Time for home.