The Harbour Master had many boats in his harbour, some old and reliable, some new and shiny, some broken and tattered but either way he loved and cared for them all. Most eventually sail away and find a new harbour but those few that never leave and never will, well, they were special. His harbour was nearly in ruin but he held it together with bits of old mooring lines from boats that left and ships that sank like scars of the past, memories committed to the shallow waters, just under the surface, warped and never quite forgotten. Although the harbour was nothing to look at the boats were in good hands, the Harbour Master kept them close in stormy weather, stopped them from floating away into uncertain waters and patched them up best he could when they got damaged, usually by bigger careless boats. Some of the Harbour Master’s boats were too damaged and beyond his help, he learned that sometimes it’s best to let some boats go and set them adrift, hoping they will find their way instead of staying lost at sea. One thing he knew for certain, his inevitable end, that caring for all these boats, giving all he has in his tattered harbour, he will be the one to eventually sink.