Last summer, beneath a lonely full moon that cried out to me, “Chill Out, Dude,” I relaxed a little. I enjoyed the solitude, the sound of waves slapping the hull, and the breeze filling the sails. When finally the sun dropped behind the pine trees to the west, I stirred only to discover the battery was dead. That meant no lights. Darkness stole the evening and my peaceful sail. Then, naturally, the breeze dropped out and the sails lay ideal, and Cassandra, a heavy, full-keeled, twenty-five-foot sailboat, came to an abrupt halt.
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