A short hop

What a difference a day makes. Out to a calm sea - though one with a big swell running in from the NE. How I scooted along. So quickly that it seemed ridiculous to stop at Whitehills. I phoned ahead to Fraserburgh. A busy fishing harbour they keep one berth for yachtie scum y’see, and indeed I could have it provided I could clear off early doors. I could! Twenty minutes later, abreast of Whitehills, they called back. Tomorrow’s visitors had showed up early. So, that was sailing over for the day at 1pm. Ach, it’s a fine wee town. I got provisions in, had an ice-cream, wrote a postcard, sat in the sunny pub beer garden and had fish & chips sitting overlooking the sea. Even chatted to some teenagers catching crabs beside the boat. The old man of the sea, me.