He knew me well and that I was a good sailor, but he knew I was doing something dangerous. It wasn’t illegal, and there was nothing he could do to stop me. “You’re heading out alone?” he asked with a frown of disapproval. “I’ll be okay,” I said. I backed the boat out of its slip, shifted the transmission to forward, and headed out on diesel power. I turned the boat at buoy G13 and piloted into the channel with the marina,...