The two-week sojourn of sun, water, sail, and old friends was a winner in every way, and I'd even crammed in a fair share of work, visiting charter-company bases and reuniting with marine-industry contacts. The breezes were so steady and the sunshine so plentiful that I'd scribble notes in my pad and think, Work? Are you kidding me?
But for the moment, that was all behind me. Now I was standing in a long line that snaked over itself at least three times. We travelers were doing our bit to clean the floors with our luggage, pushing and pulling it this way and that. The hapless mates aboard this unlucky flight then started doing what all gregarious transients do: We started talking with each other, commiserating, standing guard over each other's possessions as one of us would make a run to the soda machine or the coffee shop.