The harbour neighbored the hamlet closely enough to catch the swish and slap of the waves as they struck against the sides of fishing boats and small skiffs that bobbed on the tide. Sailor took to his paws and bolted along the cobblestones until he reached the edge of town, then out towards the harbour along the stone breakaway that separated the village proper from the rest of the sea. Silently he crept down the stone steps and carefully walked the dock below until he reached the first moored fishing boat; here he was welcomed aboard by the skipper and deckhands as a member of their crew. As he gained the vessel and dropped over the side the coiled rigging that was his special place loomed into view. He took his place and stared out over the glowing water as the vessel gently undulated on the undercurrent. All that could be seen was the outline of a cat on the deck of the fishing boat.
Revisit Sailor's story from February 21st