One of the first times my darling took me out with the aim of sea kayaking, he decided the wind was too high, the water too rough, so we didn’t go.
I was disappointed, but I don’t have the musculature that he does and figured it was as much a comment on my fitness to row, as anything. So, I bit my tongue, and made do with a coffee and a seaside view.
But the first time the motorboat was proposed, he also vetoed the trip due to weather, I was tempted to assume he was just a little too squeamish, and got a bit grumpy – after all, with the sun sparkling on breeze-whipped water, the sea looked just fine to me.
So, when he decided to escort the…